Actions and Consequences
by LadyWallace
Summary: Castiel tries to reach out to Dean with important information, but he disappears before he can deliver it. Feeling something is wrong, Dean and Sam try to track down the angel. But dealing with their own problems, will they be able to find Cas in time? AU of 4x20 "The Rapture" Sequel to "On the Edge of a Knife"
1. Chapter 1

**This story is all Aini NuFire's fault because after I did "On the Edge of a Knife" she suggested an AU of  
"The Rapture" where the boys save Cas. So I hope you enjoy this, Aini- it's not like I *need* more excuses to whump Cas ;)**

 **And this is a sequel to "On the Edge of the Knife" so you should probably read that one first so you can understand some of the things referenced in this story. Also, yes, this is both an episode and a Season 4 AU.**

Actions and Consequences

A Supernatural Fanfic

Chapter One

Dean slumped heavily down on the end of the bed, pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off a headache. It had been a rough few weeks, and not only because they had just found out that their lives were being written as a series of crappy novels, by an alcoholic author who was also apparently a prophet of God—oh yeah, and also that they had a half brother who was dead before they could even get to know him. No, on top of all these surprise revelations, Dean had had to keep an eye on Sam, making sure the kid was doing all right.

It hadn't been nearly long enough since Alastair had kidnapped Sam and tortured him mercilessly for the better part of two days. And yeah, the demon might be dead now, killed by Dean's own hand, and Cas might have healed Sam's wounds, but there were still scars. A hell of a lot of them. There was also the residual crap from their long talk after the fact; Dean going into more detail about what happened in Hell, and Sam…well, Sam confessing as to just how he had amped up his psychic powers while Dean had been Downstairs. To say Dean hadn't been happy to find out Sam had been sucking demon blood was an understatement, but he did try to see things from Sam's point of view, and to the kid's credit, he hadn't had any since.

But apparently quitting demon blood cold turkey wasn't any easier than any other addictive substance and Sam had been going through one hell of a withdrawal period on top of everything else. He'd been fine at first, but as soon as it started to wear off, Sam had been going into a downward spiral of heath issues. Even now Dean watched as he shuffled around the motel room, grabbing his stuff for a shower, looking like he might pass out any minute, dark bags under his bloodshot eyes. Dean hated seeing his brother like this, but when he'd suggested—reluctantly—that they could try weaning Sam off of it instead, the younger man had returned with a firm 'no'. Dean had to admire his dedication, but still, it hurt to watch the kid suffering. At least he knew it could only get better. Hopefully.

Dean himself was exhausted, having slept poorly of late. Facing Alastair again had brought back his Hell nightmares in full force—not that they'd stopped at all since he got back topside. But now he had new ones to add to the collection. This time with Sam on the rack and Dean standing over him with a knife, actually going through with cutting him up. Sometimes it was Cas too, the angel looking at him with pure disappointment like he was a complete failure.

Dean simply shrugged out of his over shirt and collapsed on the bed, deciding he would take a shower in the morning. He was already asleep by the time Sam came back out of the shower.

* * *

 _Castiel stood under a streetlamp in a park_ , listening to the night sounds. It was peaceful, and he enjoyed the moment, knowing it wouldn't last for long.

The flap of wings, ended the tranquility soon enough and he looked over to see Zachariah standing a few yards away, hands in his pockets and a small, slightly amused smile on his face that did nothing to fool Castiel.

"Hello Zachariah," Castiel said emotionlessly.

The other angel nodded and stepped closer. "And how are you tonight, Castiel?"

Castiel ignored him and instead said, "You wanted to see me."

Zachariah nodded. "Yes, I wanted to talk to you. You see, big stuff is happening."

"I am aware of that," Castiel replied blandly.

"As you should be," Zachariah said. "But, perhaps you are not entirely aware of how important it is to keep certain things, shall we say, off the table?"

Castiel frowned. "I don't know what you mean."

Zachariah sighed heavily. "Castiel, I'm gonna be honest with you, you haven't been at your best the last few weeks. I mean, first you kill Uriel—"

"He was a traitor," Castiel said firmly. "His death was regrettable, but necessary for the safety of all of us."

"True, but still," Zachariah said. "If you had been paying attention to your garrison instead of gallivanting off with your human charges, you may have seen the signs earlier and sent Uriel for correction instead of having to kill him. He could have been saved. Instead, we lost a good soldier at a time we need all the help we can get."

Castiel looked away from the other angel, jaw clenching. He hadn't been gallivanting off with the Winchesters. He'd helped Dean save Sam from Alastair and in the process they had gotten rid of the demon, and found out who was killing the angels. Besides, Uriel was way past any conditioning Heaven could have performed on him. He wanted to raise Lucifer, after all. And since he had been recruiting, Castiel had spent the last few weeks trying to weed out the others who had been with him. So far he had only found a couple, and it unnerved him, wondering how many others could be ready to stab their comrades in the back at any given moment. But he didn't say this out loud to Zachariah. He knew from experience that it would not change the angel's attitude toward him. But then, nothing really did.

"And then there was the little snafu with Lilith," Zachariah said more firmly, drawing Castiel's attention back to him.

The angel frowned again, cocking his head to one side. "What about Lilith? I know we were not able to apprehend her, but we stopped her from making the deal with Sam…"

"Exactly," Zachariah said. "You interfered. You know the rules, Castiel, you are not allowed to interfere, especially with something written by a prophet. Not to mention purposefully putting said prophet in harm's way."

Castiel pressed his lips together. Yes, he had warned Dean, tipped him off as to how to get rid of Lilith, but everything had turned out okay in the end. Yes, he had known that he was technically going against Heaven's wishes when he told Dean that, it just had seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Lilith would have killed both the Winchesters and their story was not at an end yet.

"You can't just make your own rules, Castiel. Not now. The apocalypse, what will come to pass, is already written. To change it is to go against God's will," Zachariah said firmly.

"That was not my intention," Castiel replied.

"Of course not," Zachariah said, a mocking ring in his voice. "You always think you're doing things for the right reason. That's always been your greatest flaw, Castiel."

The angel shifted uncomfortably, wondering where Zachariah was going with this.

"But, we're all busy, stressed, so I'm willing to let you off with a warning this time," Zachariah said in a businesslike manner. "I just wanted you to understand, that future slips will not be tolerated. All you need to know, is that you are not to interfere with anything dealing with Sam Winchester and the demon Lilith. He will kill her, but not yet. Not until it is time."

Castiel frowned slightly. Time? What did Zachariah mean by that, but before he could ask, the other angel stepped forward, clapping a hand on Castiel's shoulder.

"Now you had best go back to your duties, Castiel. We'll talk again soon."

Castiel nodded as Zachariah flapped his wings and disappeared. But what he said was still nagging at the back of Castiel's mind. He needed to know what Zachariah meant by that.

And there was only one way to do that.

* * *

 _Castiel appeared in the prophet's house_ , finding Chuck Shurley asleep on the couch, empty beer cans and bottles of liquor littered around him. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, watching the man twitch in his sleep, obviously caught in some kind of nightmare. Castiel had a lot of experience with humans and their nightmares. He would occasionally visit the Winchesters at night, and try his best to soothe the nightmares—the memories and the fears of things that could have, or hadn't yet happened—that caused them to twist in their sheets, agony etched across their features. It was not always so easy, but the least he could do for them was give them a few hours of peaceful sleep. After everything they had been through, they deserved that much.

He thought of doing the same for Chuck now, but he needed the human awake, he needed to know something.

"Chuck," he said. The man only moaned, and turned onto his side, clutching a pillow to his chest. Castiel shifted awkwardly and said louder, "Chuck."

The prophet started with a little cry, bolting into a sitting position and gasping for breath, looking around, wide-eyed. "C-Castiel?" he asked when he caught sight of the angel. "W-what are you doing here?"

Castiel crossed over to him so he was closer to the couch. "I need to know something," he said.

"What?" Chuck said, scrambling to his feet. "Look I'm trying to write as fast as I can, it's…it's a lot to go through. The visions haven't stopped since you and Sam and Dean popped up. Come back next week." He started toward the kitchen, but Castiel reached out and grabbed his shoulder.

"I can't wait until next week, this is imperative that I find out as soon as possible," Castiel said.

Chuck looked between Castiel and the hand he had on his shoulder with wide eyes. "Okay, sure, what do you need to know?"

Castiel lowered his voice earnestly, as if that could stop anyone from hearing if he was being spied on. He had tried to shut off 'angel radio' as Dean called it, but he was never sure how well that worked. "Chuck I need you to tell me what happens with Sam and Lilith. What happens if he kills her?"

Chuck glanced away, shaking his head as he started backing away from the angel. "I—I can't tell you that."

Castiel frowned, following him a step. "Why not?"

Chuck continued shaking his head and retreating. "Zachariah. He told me I wasn't allowed to tell anyone anything. Especially the Winchesters."

"You're not telling the Winchesters, you're telling me. I'm an angel, Chuck," Castiel said firmly, crowding him into the wall.

Chuck let out a squeak and flattened himself against the wall. "I know, I know, but…your character arc, I know where it's going. I know you'll tell them, and Zachariah—he'll be sure to find out. I don't want to mess with him. He seems like he means it when he makes a threat. I can't—I can't deal with this anymore. I'm not sleeping, drinking myself into oblivion isn't working…this is gonna kill me!"

Castiel closed his eyes briefly, trying to muster some patience before he said, "Chuck, just tell me this at least. Killing Lilith…is that one of the Seals?"

Chuck's sharp intake of breath and the way his eyes widened told Castiel all he needed to know. A sickness began to form in the pit of his stomach as he stepped away from Chuck and allowed the man to scurry away. "It's as I feared," Castiel said mostly to himself. He knew there had been something Heaven was keeping from him. Had begun to suspect it while looking for the rest of Uriel's Lucifer loyalists. But he hadn't quite wanted to believe it. Hadn't wanted to believe that the angels didn't want to stop the apocalypse from happening at all. They wanted to start it.

"Thank you, Chuck," Castiel said quietly. "I won't bother you again."

"Castiel," Chuck called as the angel made to leave. "Just…be careful, okay?"

Castiel didn't reply. He knew exactly the danger he was in, the lines he was stepping over. But even Zachariah's warning earlier that night was not enough to keep him from passing this message on. He thought about the conversation he'd had with Anna when she had found him in the Winchesters' hospital room. How he had confessed to having considered disobedience. He knew little good would come of it, but he couldn't shake the fact that it felt like the right thing. After all, if it was no longer God giving the orders in Heaven, then wouldn't that mean that following the ones giving by whoever it was would be worse than rebelling against them? He was starting to see that perhaps Anna had been right all along.

But right now, he had to get the information he had gathered to the Winchesters. They were quickly loosing the war against the Seals and Castiel knew it wouldn't be long now before everything came to a head one way or another. The least he could do was give the Winchesters a heads up as to what was to come. Perhaps then they might be able to do something to stop it when even the angels couldn't.

* * *

 _Dean was sitting on the edge of the dock_ , fishing pole in hand and the tranquil lake in front of him. It was so peaceful, quiet, he could have sat there for hours just enjoying the scenery.

Then there was a disturbance in the air behind Dean, a familiar sound that he chose it ignore for a second before a voice spoke beside him, "We need to talk."

He started slightly and turned to see Castiel standing beside him. He sighed in realization. "I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

"It's not safe here," Cas told him, glancing around as if someone might pop out at any second. "Someplace more private."

"More private?" Dean asked, glancing up at the angel. "We're inside my head."

"Exactly," Cas said quietly. "Someone could be listening."

Well crap. Dean didn't like the sound of that at all. Nor did he like the tone in Cas' voice, and the shifty way he was looking around. _Inside Dean's head_. "Cas, what's wrong?"

Cas didn't answer, he simply reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper which he handed to Dean. "Meet me here. Go now," he said insistently.

Dean's eyes widened, but as soon as he opened his mouth to say something else, Cas was gone.

Dean looked down at the paper, seeing an address written on it. Damn, if Cas couldn't even say an address out loud in the apparent privacy of Dean's mind, then what the hell was going on?

* * *

 _Dean's eyes flew open_ with a sharp intake of breath as he woke back in the motel room. He blinked a couple times, trying to figure out if the dream he'd had actually happened, or if it had been a…well… a dream.

But there was an address inscribed in his head that he remembered reading off the paper Cas had handed to him, and Dean knew this hadn't just been a dream.

He sat up, and tossed the covers aside, flicking on the lamp beside his bed as he crossed to the one Sam was sleeping on and jiggled his brother's shoulder.

"Hey, get up," he said.

Sam moaned and came to groggily. Dean kind of hated waking him up, knowing that Sam had been sleeping poorly and at the same time, always exhausted from the effects of the demon blood withdrawals, but he didn't know what he was walking into with Cas and he'd like the backup. Even if Sam probably couldn't even shoot straight right now.

"What?" Sam groaned, squinting at the clock.

"It's Cas. Something's up; he asked us to meet him."

Sam frowned, sitting up with another groan. "In the middle of the night?"

Dean shrugged, already grabbing his clothes. "He said we needed to talk. We leave in five."

Dean began packing the Impala while Sam slowly made his way out of bed, and dressed. Dean swallowed hard, watching the discomfort on Sam's face out of the corner of his eye. The kid didn't share every little pain with Dean, but big brothers knew, and Dean knew Sammy was hurting. He just didn't know how else to fix it besides letting Sam sweat it out. That didn't mean it wasn't killing him to see his brother suffer like that though.

To his credit, Sam was ready in five and they got into the Impala and made their way outside of town to an old factory that Cas had given them the address for.

* * *

 _Castiel waited anxiously_ at the abandoned factory where he had told Dean to meet him. He watched for the big black car to drive up, knowing he didn't have a lot of time. Regardless, of what happened within the next few hours, he knew it was going to end badly for him. Zachariah would eventually find out about his visit with Chuck, and then the inevitable punishment would happen. Castiel just wanted to be able to pass the news along to Dean before that happened. After that, he didn't care what happened to him. This was all too important to everything—to the world and humanity itself—for him to ignore.

"Father, forgive me," Castiel said quietly, praying to the absent Father who may or may not be there anymore. "But I feel this is the right thing to do."

Something pricked in the back of his mind, and for a breathless moment, he thought it was his Father, reaching out to him, but then he recognized it simply as the signatures of other angels.

Castiel's eyes snapped wide open, feeling his brothers coming toward him. He glanced around again for any sign of Dean, but there was none.

"No, not yet," he said and hurried inside the abandoned building. If he was going to be taken, he wasn't going to go without a fight. Not this time. He had to find a way to get out of there and meet with the Winchesters.

He swiftly ran to a bare wall and yanked up his sleeve. Pulling out his angel blade, his cut deep into his forearm and as blood welled up, he dipped his fingers in it, and began to smear it over the wall, forming the banishing sigil.

Once he had finished with that, he started on a warding sigil too, but it was too late. The door blew open of its own accord and in strode Zachariah and several other angels. Castiel spun to meet them, blade already in hand, and blood dripping down his arm.

"Castiel, we wondered where you had gotten to," Zachariah said conversationally, stopping a few yards from the angel, hands slipping into his pockets with a nonchalant air.

Castiel didn't say anything, not wanting to incriminate himself. Perhaps Zachariah didn't know why he was here.

But of course he did. Zachariah always knew. He cocked his head to one side. "I really hope you don't think you can fight your way out of here, Castiel. Because in case you haven't noticed, you're outnumbered here."

Castiel shook his head. "I'm not going with you."

"Is this rebellion? Is that it?" Zachariah said, almost eagerly. Castiel knew Zachariah was just waiting for the moment he got to denounce him. This would not be the first time Castiel was to be punished at Zachariah's hands.

But…it might be the last.

But he wasn't going down without a fight.

"Is it rebellion, Zachariah?" he asked darkly. "Or am I the only one questioning orders we don't even know are coming from God?"

Zachariah shook his head. "Oh, Castiel, I see that Uriel got to you after all."

"No," Castiel cut him off. "I am not loyal to Lucifer by any means. I just want to avoid this war if it is not truly necessary. And if you let Sam Winchester kill Lilith, you know what will happen."

Zachariah narrowed his eyes. "It will come to pass. It's written, Castiel."

"By who?" Castiel demanded. "Because for some reason, I don't think this is God's will."

"How dare you question what is our father's will?" Zachariah snapped, stepping closer to Castiel as the other angel took a step back. Only a little further now. "You have spent too much time with those humans, Castiel, they have corrupted you! It seems I have to teach you your place. Again."

Castiel took another step back as if about to run. Zachariah smirked.

"Come on, now, Castiel. You know you can't run. Come accept your punishment. It will all be easier after that."

"I'm not running," Castiel said firmly. "I'm just buying myself some time."

He leapt for the banishing sigil he had made earlier, but before he could clap his hand against it, someone tackled him from behind.

One of the other angels who had come with Zachariah had come around behind him and gotten the jump on him. Castiel twisted around, getting his blade up and swiping at the other angel. His opponent jumped back and barely dodged Castiel's blade.

By then the rest of the angels were coming to accost Castiel while Zachariah shouted at them to take him down.

Castiel lashed out with his blade, slashing one of the angels across the chest, and stabbing another in the arm. He didn't really want to have to kill his brothers, but his message was too important to not deliver.

As much as he hated running from a fight, he thought of simply flying off, but before he could spread his wings, a length of chain came out of nowhere over his head, and was jerked firmly around his upper arms and locked behind his back. Castiel cried out as sigils flared briefly on the metal links, and then his blade was slipping from his hand and he was collapsing to the ground, limp. Not only did the sigils paralyze him, but they bound his grace, and his wings. He could feel them pressing the ethereal appendages painfully against his back, keeping him grounded and powerless.

Zachariah strode over to him and kicked him onto his back, looking down with a high-and-mighty expression. "Did you really think you were going to get out of this one, Castiel?"

Castiel just glowered up at him. Zachariah sighed and shook his head, turning to the other angels. "Take him. We have a lot to talk about."

Castiel was hauled to his feet and whisked off through the ether. Even if he could have put up a fight he was given no chance this time. He just couldn't believe he had failed.

How was he going to get his message to the Winchesters now?


	2. Chapter 2

**We're back with chapter two and some whump for your monday ;) Thanks to my guest reviewer Jcat- I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far :)**

 **Also, forgot to mention last time that some scenes and lines of dialogue are taken from the show.**

Chapter Two

Dean glanced toward the old broken down factory as he cruised the Impala to a stop cautiously in front of it.

"Are you sure this is the place?" Sam asked, skeptically.

"Yeah," was all Dean said. "I guess he's inside."

He got out of the car, and waited for Sam to follow. His brother took a little longer to make his way out of the Impala, and Dean bit his lip, wondering if he should have brought Sam at all.

But Sam pulled himself together and they crossed to the door at the side of the building. It was already open, causing Dean to pause slightly. He reached for his gun while Sam reached for the demon knife. Just in case.

"Does something feel off to you?" Sam asked as they stepped through the door to the quiet building.

Dean glanced around then took out a flashlight, flicking it on as Sam did the same. "I don't know. Cas?" he called. "You here?"

He and Sam shared a look when they got no reply and continued further into the factory.

"Dean, do you think…" Sam hesitated, then continued. "You don't think one of the other angels could have tricked you again, do you? Like Uriel did to me?"

Dean had already thought of that possibility but he swiftly shook his head. "No. This was Cas, I'm sure of it. I just…I don't know, man, I'm worried. He seemed kinda paranoid, like someone was after him. He wouldn't even say what he needed to in my own head, like someone might be listening in."

Sam frowned. "And he didn't say anything about what this was all about?"

"No, that's what I'm telling you," Dean snapped then shook his head. "Look, I don't know any more than you. Let's just find Cas and see what he has to say."

Sam nodded and they continued on, shining their flashlights off the walls.

"Cas?" Dean called again.

"Dean," Sam said suddenly and pointed his flashlight beam toward something up ahead on the ground.

Dean hurried forward and bent to inspect the sticky red substance.

"Blood?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded grimly. "Yup. But whose blood…"

"It's not demon," Sam said surely and Dean glanced at him quickly, watching the younger man swallow hard with a sick expression. Dean swiftly changed the subject.

"Okay, so there weren't demons here, that's good I guess."

"Yeah, but…I don't think that's who Cas would be worried about, I mean, you've seen the way he handles demons," Sam said as they continued on.

"Well, there's only one way to…holy crap."

They turned a corner into a large open space and looked around. There was a door at one side of the room that had been blasted in, and beyond that, girders and wires littered the ground, having fallen during what looked like some sort of epic battle.

"Dean," Sam said quickly, grabbing his brother's shoulder and pointing to a wall where there was a huge sigil painted in what looked like blood.

Dean crossed over to inspect it and touched a finger to it. It was still tacky.

"This hasn't been here long," he said and then studied the sigil closer. "Sam, this is that sigil Anna used to blow the angels to Oz."

Sam looked around the room again. "You think Cas…?"

Something caught Dean's eye, glinting on the ground and he bent to retrieve an angel blade from a pile of rubble, blood coating the tip. He held it up for Sam to see, a pit forming in his stomach. "Something tells me that Cas didn't get a chance to use it."

Sam shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "So what? Dean, this was angel on angel violence. Whatever Cas had to tell us…it must have been important enough that the angels didn't want it getting out."

Dean swallowed hard. "Yeah. Son of a bitch." He didn't know what to do now. Sure, Cas might have been an angel, but he'd also helped Dean find Sam and several other times since then. And really, the guy seemed to be warming up to them, not nearly as much of a dick as when Dean had first met him. In fact, he'd really kind of started to warm up to the angel, consider him a comrade in arms. Maybe even a friend. In any case, it looked like Cas was in trouble, and Dean was going to guess there was no one else that would be willing to save him.

"What do we do?" Sam asked, rubbing his head as if he had a headache—and Dean figured he probably did.

"Look, Cas got into this mess because he tried to warn us. He already got knocked down in rank because he helped us. The least we can do is try to get him out of this. We need the info he had, but besides that, he helped me save you; this is the least we can do in return."

"But Dean, what if they took him back to Heaven?" Sam demanded. "Look, I want to help him too, but we can't exactly go Mission Impossible on Heaven, I mean, that is actually impossible!"

"I know," Dean snapped as he looked around the wreckage of the factory again to make sure they hadn't missed anything. "I know, but we have to try to find out at least. We'll figure it out."

Sam sighed and nodded. "Okay, I know, I'm worried about him too, but I think we need to regroup, maybe head back to Bobby's."

Dean hesitated, not wanting to go all the way back to Sioux Falls when Cas could still be nearby, but at the same time, there was no guarantee of that; hell, there was no guarantee that he was even still on the same planet if the angels had him. So maybe it would be best to head back to Bobby's place and see if they could find some kind of spell to track an angel or whatever. Or maybe Cas would simply show up again, or get in contact with them. Maybe they had misread this whole situation.

But as Dean once again looked down at the angel blade in his hand and the sigil on the wall, he knew his gut instinct was right and that Cas had to be in deep trouble.

* * *

 _Castiel grunted as he was thrown_ to the ground, still bound helplessly by the sigiled chains. He'd landed on his side, gasping for breath; the flight through the ether hadn't been pleasant with all his powers and his wings bound. It had been like being sucked through a vacuum in space. Not an experience he wanted to repeat.

"Get him up."

Castiel glanced up, as Zachariah's lackeys came to drag him up from the ground. The chains that bound him were unlooped from around his torso and instead bound around his wrists and forearms, before the ends were chained around two pillars positioned in the room on either side of him. Castiel took in his surroundings for the first time. He wasn't sure where he was, but it looked like it might have been an underground train station, that was now long abandoned. Broken down, places in the ceiling dripping down to leave mildew and mold. It didn't look like there had been anyone down here for ten years at least. This was the kind of place that the Winchesters would likely go to hunt ghosts, or find monsters. Castiel vaguely wondered if any of those beings might be lurking around here. But he figured that anything that had been would be scared away by the angels; most other creatures of the supernatural universe knew to stay away from them.

"Get him on his knees," Zachariah barked to the other angels as they finished securing Castiel between the pillars. "I want him properly humble."

Castiel nearly snorted, and struggled as the two angels grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to his knees on the wet concrete beneath him. It was rich for Zachariah to want someone humble when he was the most prideful angel in the garrison.

"So, Castiel," Zachariah said, as he strode over to the chained angel, stepping in front of him, and looking like he was enjoying looking down at Castiel in his kneeling position. "I can only assume you know why you're here. So, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Castiel glowered up at him, shaking his head. "I have nothing to say on the matter, Zachariah."

The angel cocked an eyebrow. "No? Is that so?"

The hand lashed out before Castiel was ready and Zachariah backhanded him across the face.

"Because, let me tell you something, Castiel," Zachariah snarled, all false attempts at pleasantries gone. "You have gone way off the reservation this time. I mean, you've always been trouble, and I've always had to put you in your place, but this time, oh-ho, this time, you really take the cake."

Castiel narrowed his eyes, the side of his face stinging more than it should have, likely due to his bound grace. "I was only doing my duty," he said sincerely.

"Your duty?" Zachariah asked with a humorless chuckle. "And what was that duty, Castiel? Did it involve gallivanting off with your human charges, without any report to heaven about what you were doing? And then visiting the prophet to find out information I specifically told you not to inquire into? And as if that wasn't bad enough the next thing you do is run off to the Winchesters—again—to tell them all about what you found out."

"You mean, to tell them that you and the other angels want to _start_ the apocalypse, instead of prevent it?" Castiel demanded. "Because I think that's kind of important."

"It's meant to be, Castiel," Zachariah snarled, clenching his fists. "Would you go against God's will?"

"No, I would not," Castiel said firmly. "But neither do I believe this _is_ His will. I don't think any of our orders have been from God for a long time. So I choose not to follow these orders." Perhaps against his better judgment, but he had made his stand and he was not going to back down now.

The other angels shook their heads slightly in disgust as Zachariah scoffed again. "You are so ignorant and brazen, you wretch," he said. "You will rebel now? Is that it? Will you fall—like Anna did? I should have expected it as soon as she came back. You two always were close. Has she corrupted your mind as well?"

Castiel shook his head. "No, I have simply decided to think for myself. And I came to this conclusion: I would much rather risk defying the orders of other angels that I doubt than risk going against our Father, and since I truly believe that he is not giving the orders, then I think I will choose the first option."

Zachariah gave a longsuffering sigh, but Castiel thought there was some satisfaction there at hearing his answer too. That made the captive angel sick to his stomach, knowing very well what was in store for him now that he had made his decision—all too aware of just what Zachariah was capable of.

"Well, I suppose that just means I'm going to have to teach you a lesson in obedience," Zachariah said and snapped his fingers at one of the other angels. "Josiah, prepare him."

Castiel was unable to keep from jerking at his chains as Josiah approached him with his angel blade out. The other angel, Malachi, Castiel recognized, went over to a table nearby that held several implements that were obviously meant for Castiel's punishment. He couldn't see what Malachi was selecting though because Josiah was now standing in front of him, blocking his view. He took his blade in a businesslike manner and Castiel flinched as Josiah gripped one of his wrists and then sliced the blade cleanly through the sleeve of his coats and shirt. He did the same with the other side and finally, with one efficient _rip_ the clothing was torn away from him, leaving Castiel bare-chested now. Oddly enough, the only thing he could think about was how perturbed he felt at seeing the clothing lying in a ruined pile on the floor. Of course it hadn't been the first time he'd had to repair it since he had taken Jimmy Novak as his vessel—his first meeting with Dean in this form hadn't exactly gone smoothly—but the clothes were Jimmy's and Castiel was rather protective of his vessel.

Of course, now Zachariah was going to _torture_ him in this vessel, so Castiel realized that some ripped clothes probably didn't matter in the whole scheme of things. Instead he turned inward briefly and made sure Jimmy was buried deeply with no chance of feeling any pain.

By then, Malachi had handed Zachariah the tool of choice and Castiel saw that it was a whip. But not simply a normal one either, no, this one had metal tips on each of the five flails that were made of the same material as an angel blade so that it could cause true pain to an angel. The sight of it brought back memories Castiel had wished to repress. He'd watched what it could do before when the garrison was called to witness the punishments of other angels who had disobeyed in the past. He remembered one occasion washing Balthazar's wounds after the fact when the angel had been too smart to Zachariah during a campaign long ago now. He suppressed a shudder. This whip did terrible things to an angel's flesh, able to touch their true form, but even worse, if it was allowed to touch the wings—that was agony.

Zachariah seemed pleased as he watched the emotions wash over Castiel's face. "You will learn your lesson, Castiel, one way or another," the higher angel said, slowly walking around Castiel's chained form so that he was at his back.

Castiel's shoulders clenched expectantly, just waiting for the first lash to fall.

"Who do you serve, Castiel?" Zachariah asked.

Castiel stayed silent. There was no answer he could give that Zachariah wanted to hear.

Zachariah huffed a sigh, and Castiel imagined him shaking his head. "Very well. You've made your choice. I hope, for your sake, you'll see the error in your ways soon enough."

There was a brief whistle and displacement of air and then fire erupted across his shoulder blades. Castiel choked back a cry, refusing the make a sound so soon. But he did jerk forward in his chains at the impact with a sharp exhale. Zachariah delivered several more blows, each one heavier than the last until Castiel finally let a sharp yelp escape his throat. Zachariah paused for a moment as he slumped, panting, against the chains.

"Who do you serve, Castiel?" Zachariah asked more forcefully.

Castiel just shook his head and shut his eyes as his world exploded in agony once again.

* * *

 _Dean gripped the Impala's steering wheel_ tight as they drove down the wet road, rain dancing across the windshield. He kept glancing over at Sam in the passenger seat. He looked both uncomfortable and exhausted, but yet the kid was refusing to sleep—probably because of nightmares. Dean didn't really blame him. He was kind of hoping he could convince Sam to stay at Bobby's while Dean and the older hunter went off to see what they could do about Cas, but he knew that wasn't going to happen.

The image of the wreckage in that factory flashed in front of Dean's mind again, reminding him of what Sam had said: _Angel on angel violence._ What the hell had Cas gotten himself into? And why was he all of a sudden on Heaven's hit list? Unless it was angels like Uriel, ones who wanted to raise Lucifer and this was some kind of…what, gang war? Still, Cas had obviously been defending himself from his winged comrades, with the sigils, and the bloody angel blade that Dean now carried inside of his jacket. He just worried this might be bigger than what he or Sam could even hope to stop.

He was lost in thought when a feminine voice suddenly spoke from the back seat. "Hey guys."

"Whoa!" Dean cried out, after catching sight of a figure in the rearview mirror and jerking the wheel in shock, nearly swerving into oncoming traffic. Sam was definitely awake now and gripping the door and the dash for dear life.

Once Dean's mind finally caught up with the fact that it was Anna sitting in his backseat, he tried to force his heartbeat down to a simple gallop.

"Smooth," Anna stated wryly.

"Ever try calling ahead?" Dean demanded, knuckles white on the wheel.

"I like the element of surprise," Anna said blandly.

Dean glanced over his shoulder at the angel, her red hair looking rather windswept, and, well, of course he couldn't help but remember their night together in that backseat before everything had gone to hell. "Wow, you look terrific," he had to say. Sam shot him a look.

"Yeah, not the most appropriate time, Dean," Anna said awkwardly, before she leaned forward. "Look, have either of you talked to Castiel recently?"

Dean shared a glance with Sam before casting another look at Anna over his shoulder. "Uh, yeah, actually. He did the whole dream walking thing last night, asked me to meet him somewhere so he could tell us something important."

"And?" Anna asked expectantly.

"And when we got there the place was a disaster zone," Dean said grimly and met her eyes in the rearview mirror. "You know what happened?"

Anna's eyes turned frightened and she shook her head. "No, but I heard he'd been…apprehended."

Both Sam and Dean glanced back over the seat at her. "What the hell does that mean?" Dean asked.

"It means it's bad," Anna said. "Painfully, awfully, bad."

Sam and Dean shared another look and the worry that had already settled in Dean's stomach just knotted further.

"He must have seriously pissed someone off," Anna said.

"Anna, Cas said he had something to tell me, something important. Do you have any idea what it might have been?"

"No," she said, "But whatever it is, it's _huge_. Cas wouldn't risk being taken back to Heaven for anything that wasn't seriously important."

"Taken back to Heaven?" Sam's eyes blew wide. "Is that where he is?"

Dean's stomach churned even more. If Cas was in Heaven, they had no hope of mounting a rescue.

But Anna shook her head. "No. I would have heard on angel radio if he had been. All I heard was that he was apprehended, but for some reason, they're keeping him here on Earth. Neither implication is good. Especially since it was Zachariah who took him."

"Wait, Zachariah? I met him," Dean said with a frown. "He said he was Cas' superior."

Anna snorted. "Yeah, and he's a real piece of work. Always looking for an excuse to punish the angels he doesn't like, and his brand of torture is particularly cruel. I should know. He calls it punishment, 're-education', but he enjoys it more than he has to."

Dean glanced back at the red-headed angel again, seeing the haunted look in her eyes and swallowing hard. He knew torture, and what someone looked like when they had endured horrific suffering and he could tell that Anna definitely had.

"But he's still on Earth?" Dean asked. "That means we can find him."

"Are you crazy?" Anna demanded. "You two wouldn't stand a chance against Zachariah, especially Sam who reeks of demon blood—sorry," she apologized quickly as Sam ducked his head, shame written across his face.

"I'm trying to get it out of my system," he said quietly, wetting his lips.

"I know, but Zachariah will use it against you," she told him. "Not to mention the fact you have a fever and can't think straight."

"Okay, but what about me?" Dean asked. "Aren't I supposed to be the one to stop the apocalypse? They're not gonna do anything to me."

Anna snorted. "Wanna bet? Zachariah wouldn't think twice about tearing you apart and putting you back together again. Or locking you up until they need you if you're lucky. But you take Sam with you up against him and Zachariah isn't going to have any qualms about killing your brother."

Dean swallowed hard, anger coursing through him. "Okay, I get it. But Cas helped us when he didn't have to. He helped me save Sam from Alastair and he got into this mess because he tried to tell us something. We can't just leave him to that douchebag's torture."

Anna seemed slightly surprised but she nodded slowly. "I agree. Cas and I may have drifted apart over the years but he is my friend. My brother. If you're going after him, then I will help you. I fear I might be partially responsible for his position as well."

Dean frowned but before he could ask why, Anna continued. "I'm going to go see if I can get a location."

"Okay, but be careful," Dean told her. "You're already a fugitive."

"I'm well aware," Anna replied. "But I will be careful."

"We'll be at Bobby's," Sam told her.

Anna nodded and then disappeared again.

Dean glanced over at Sam and shook his head. "Well, crap."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Castiel slumped in his chains, every muscle clenched with pain. Every heaving breath that escaped his lungs stretched the wounds on his back painfully.

Zachariah was standing in front of him again. Castiel could hear him walking around to face him even though his eyes were squeezed shut. The other angel reached out and gripped his chin roughly though, pulling his face up and forcing Castiel to open his eyes.

"So, Castiel, have you learned who you serve now?" Zachariah asked expectantly.

Castiel took in the angel standing over him, the smug look on his face, and the lash he still held in one hand that was dripping Castiel's blood. He couldn't see his back, but he could tell his flesh had been torn up horrifically. He could feel blood and grace both dripping down the sides, soaking into the waistband of his trousers, creating small pools on the concrete below him. He knew Zachariah would only get more creative as they went on. Inflict more and more pain on Castiel until he couldn't do anything but beg him to stop, give in and say whatever it was Zachariah would want to hear. He'd done it before.

But something was stopping him now. Perhaps it was seeing the determination in Dean Winchester in whatever he did. The human hunter might have been broken coming out of Hell, but he was still a man who held a large amount of defiance and self-awareness around him and Castiel couldn't help but admire that. And Sam, defying the odds of what the angels said he would become by casting off the demon that had been controlling him, and beating his addiction to demon blood. These men might be the only ones who could stop the apocalypse, especially now that Castiel knew exactly what was destined to start the whole thing, and the angel found that he wanted to be there when they did it. He wanted to help them. The love and devotion Sam and Dean shared toward one another was enough to survive anything. Castiel wished he could have a relationship like that with his own siblings.

So he turned his eyes up to meet Zachariah's, showing that he still had some defiance in him, and shook his head. "I already told you, Zachariah. I serve our Father, but I will not obey these false orders from Heaven. I will not obey you."

Zachariah's grip on his chin tightened, his fingernails pressing deeply into flesh as he leaned closer and snarled into Castiel's face. "Are you sure you want to make that decision, Castiel?"

The captive angel didn't say anything. Simply continued to meet the gaze of his superior with steely determination.

Zachariah made a small, scoffing noise in the back of his throat as he released Castiel and stepped back, moving toward the cart of instruments of 'education'. "I can see you are still defiant," he said as he set the bloody lash down and looked through the other options. "You could use some more reminders of why angels are not to consort with humans."

"We are supposed to be their shepherds," Castiel tried to protest, though knew Zachariah wouldn't care for that sentiment.

The angel scoffed mockingly again. "Shepherds? Please, Castiel, that idea is old fashioned even for you."

He picked up a small jug from the table and nodded to Malachi who came over promptly and took it from Zachariah. He pulled out a small metal bowl from underneath the cart and poured some liquid from the jug into the bowl. Castiel wasn't sure what it was until Malachi lit a match and threw it into the bowl before quickly stepping back when there was a brief flare of flames.

Zachariah took up a metal rod, and dipped it into the burning pot, letting it get hot before he pulled it out, tip glowing a bright white.

Castiel shifted in his chains, swallowing hard. Holy fire, despite its name, actually did more damage to angels than it did to demons. It was one of the only things besides angel blades that could actually hurt them, not only burning the flesh of whatever vessel an angel might be using, but their true form as well.

"You could do with a good, old-fashioned, cleansing, Castiel," Zachariah said with a hint of satisfaction on his face. "And what better way to remind you of your place than holy fire?"

"Zachariah please," Castiel said, begging despite himself.

The plea brought a smirk to Zachariah's face as he stopped in front of Castiel, holding up the brand. "Will you repent?"

Castiel's eyes were fixed on the glowing brand, throat tight. But he remembered the endless torments Dean went through at the hands of Alastair, how even after everything he faced the demon down to save his brother. Castiel hadn't endured a fraction of what the human had, and if there was still a chance that he could get out of this, after Zachariah was finished teaching him his lesson—providing he still had his mind at the end of it—then he had to take that chance to warn the Winchesters of what was coming.

So he met Zachariah's gaze boldly. "I will not repent what I truly believe."

Zachariah shook his head. "Very well then, Castiel. We'll see if you change your mind after this."

Castiel tried not to flinch as Zachariah brought the brand toward the center of his chest, right above the place where the heart of his vessel rested, which, in Castiel's own anxiety, was beating rapidly.

"This is a reminder of who you serve, Castiel," Zachariah told him. "You would do better to remember that."

The brand finally connected with his skin and Castiel was unable to help the cry that tore from his lips. The smell of burning flesh combined with the feeling of his grace sizzling upon contact—it was agonizing.

Zachariah was quick to reheat the brand and before long was pressing it to the tender flesh of Castiel's ribs. Then again, and again, and again, each time the agony built up more and more until Castiel's screams echoed through the abandoned railway tunnels.

The price of standing up for what you believed.

* * *

 _They made it to Sioux Falls_ in good time due to Dean's speeding, and Sam was glad. Driving was not fun when he felt like this. The fever he'd had ever since the demon blood started wearing out of his system was making his stomach turn and he perpetually felt like he was going to throw up. Besides that, it was impossible to find a position that was comfortable with his body aching so much. He wondered how much longer it would take the get the blood out of his system. He wished there was some sort of quick cure, so he could more easily aid in finding Cas. He didn't have time to be down for the count right now. Dean needed someone he could trust to watch his back, and Sam, quite frankly, wasn't even positive he could shoot straight at the moment.

He stretched his back and popped his neck as he stepped out of the car, unable to help a groan before he pinched his fingers against the bridge of his nose to try and ease his headache.

"Hey, you good?" Dean asked.

Sam huffed an irritated sigh. "Generally no. I'm just…surviving."

Dean's face tightened, his jaw clenched. "Sammy, you know, if you don't feel up to it…Bobby and I can handle this…"

"No," Sam insisted firmly and pushed his hip away from the Impala where he had been leaning. "I'm not gonna let you do this without me. You need all the help you can get. And Cas…he came for me when he didn't have to, I want to return the favor." Truth be told, the angel's faith in Sam, telling him that he wasn't simply evil despite the demon blood—it had helped Sam get through this. Even if he hadn't already begun to think of the angel as a friend, he would have wanted to give something in return, and if Cas was in trouble, then they had to help him, because, like Dean said before…who else would? It didn't seem like Cas really had anyone else on his side right now.

Dean pressed his lips together in a thin line, but he nodded. "Alright, well, let's get to work then. See if there's any way we can track an angel. Or any other tricks we can find to fight them."

"Anna may still find something," Sam offered.

"Yeah, but there's no guarantee of that," Dean admitted grimly. "And they're looking for her too. They might manage to take her captive as well and then we'll be back at square one."

Sam bit his lip, but had to agree Dean was right. There were few possibilities here that anything would go their way.

Bobby met them at the door, opening it for them as soon as they stepped onto the porch. "About time you boys got back," he said, then caught sight of their faces. "What happened now?"

"We got problems," Dean said blandly and led the way inside. "We need to do research on angels."

Bobby sighed. "Well, let me just put on a fresh pot of coffee."

They explained what had happened to the older hunter as Bobby made the promised coffee then they all hit the books in the study.

"I'm not sure how much of this is even going to be useful," Bobby said wryly as he dropped a pile of books onto the desk with a dusty thump. "Up until recently there was no reason to think angels even existed. Hunters never really recorded anything worth recording on them. But there may be something in the lore here."

"Even just a tracking spell that can find supernatural creatures," Sam said as he took several of the books Bobby had pulled out and went to slump down on the couch. The coffee wasn't helping his head any and it was kind of just making his stomach feel worse, so he decided to try and focus himself on the research.

"Well, I'll see what I can do," Bobby muttered. "It seems like your feathered friend has been hanging out with you idjits too much. Caught the 'always getting in trouble' bug."

Dean's face tightened and even though Sam knew Bobby had been joking, he could tell his brother was blaming himself for Cas' current situation. Obviously, if it hadn't been for them and all the help Cas had offered to them over the past few weeks, he probably _wouldn't_ be in this position. So it was essentially their fault.

All he knew was that they had to find the angel, and fast.

Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. Bobby's predictions proved correct, there was little to no viable information on angels that would be of any practical use to a hunter, and while they found dozens of tracking spells, there was no guarantee any of them would work on Cas.

"We do have his blade though," Dean said, taking the angel blade they had picked up from the factory out of his jacket. "At least I'm pretty sure it's his."

"Well, that's something at least," Bobby muttered. "I'll see if I can gather some ingredients so we can try one of these out."

Sam slumped against the arm of the couch, taking a moment to close his eyes and try to relive the pressure in his head that had only worsened from all the reading and the lack of sleep.

"Sammy, you should go try and get some rest," Dean said, glancing over at him.

Sam sighed and rubbed his temples. "Once we find something, I'll sleep. I just wish we had a way of knowing if we were on the right track."

That was when something clicked in his brain, and he sat up straight, unable to believe he hadn't thought of this before.

"Dean," he said, and his brother glanced over at him, expectantly.

"What?"

"I think I know who might be able to help us." Sam stood up.

"Who?"

"Chuck!" Sam replied. "Maybe he's seen something, or, or at least maybe he knows where we might be able to look for Cas. He might even know what Cas was trying to tell us!"

Dean's eyes widened. "You're right, I didn't think of that before." He was already on his feet, grabbing his bag. "We gotta get over there."

Bobby came back in then. "Where are you idjits off to now?"

"We're gonna go see if Chuck Shurley knows anything," Sam told him.

"The prophet?" Bobby asked. "You sure that's a good idea? He is linked directly with the angels."

"Yeah, but he might be our only shot," Dean said, pulling on his jacket. Sam reached for his own and followed Dean to the door.

"You boys be careful," Bobby muttered, shaking his head. "Keep me updated. I'll keep looking here."

"Thanks Bobby, we will," Sam assured him with more surety than he felt and hurried out to the Impala with Dean. It would be a long drive to Ohio.

* * *

 _Dean glanced over at Sam_ , seeing the kid finally passed out in the passenger seat, shivering slightly with his cheek pressed against the window. Dean turned up the heater a bit, and tried to keep his eyes fixed on the road. He was glad Sam was finally sleeping and for the moment didn't seem to be having any nightmares. He'd almost protested taking him at all, but if Chuck ended up having the information they needed, they would likely head directly to wherever Cas was after they were done there, and Dean knew Sam would never forgive him if he went off alone. And Dean had to admit, that, going through withdrawals or not, he'd rather have Sam at his side. He wasn't comfortable with letting the kid out of his sight right now, not after the thing with Alastair, and whatever the hell the angels were planning for them. They needed to stick together, have each other's backs, now more than ever.

When they got Cas back, he planned to extend that sentiment to the angel. For the first time, Dean realized exactly what this must mean for Cas. He had fought other angels, his brethren, and if what Anna said was true, that it was Zachariah who took him, then Cas must have full on rebelled. This wasn't just him fighting against angels like Uriel who were killing other angels, this was Cas fighting against Heaven itself. Did that mean he would fall like Anna? Either way, Dean knew that if Cas was going to be on Heaven's black list, then he would need somewhere to go, and what better place than to join the rest of the misfits who were trying to stop the end of the world?

But they had to get him away from his psycho frat bros first, and whatever the hell they were doing to him. Dean's stomach twisted at the thought, the memory of Anna's eyes when she had talked about Heaven's 're-education'. Dean had a bad feeling Cas was not gonna be in good shape when they found him.

All the more reason to do so as quickly as possible.

As the hours and the miles stretched on, he got more and more anxious, not having heard from Anna, he wondered if she was still looking or if maybe she had been captured as well. He really hoped not, one angel would be hard enough to rescue, let alone two.

He drove straight through to Ohio and Sam slept most of it. Thinking about it now, he probably should have called ahead to let Chuck know they were coming—the guy was kinda jumpy. But it was too late now.

Sam woke when they got to town.

"Where're we?" he asked groggily, rubbing his eyes and massaging a crick from his neck.

"Almost there," Dean replied, glancing over at him. "How you doing?"

Sam frowned, wrinkling his nose. "Headache's a little better. Still feel kinda sick."

"You need to eat something," Dean told him. "It's a twelve hour drive and you slept most of it."

Sam pulled a face. "I'll eat later. Let's just get to Chuck's place right now."

Dean refrained from sighing and took a few side streets to the neighborhood Chuck Shurley lived in.

He parked the Impala outside the old rundown house and he and Sam got out and headed for the door. He knocked then rang the doorbell and knocked again when there was no answer. He glanced at Sam.

"Think he's home?"

Sam shrugged. Dean knocked again, harder this time. "Chuck! If you're in there, open up! This is important!"

There was finally the sound of several locks being undone and the door opened a crack, revealing one eye and a sliver of a scruffy face.

"Uh, hey," Chuck said in a small voice.

"You gonna let us in?" Dean asked, already pushing through the door.

"Uh, ah!" Chuck made several protesting noises, but stumbled back from the door as Dean pushed inside, not in the mood for this crap today. Sam followed and soon they were both standing there with Chuck looking possibly even more nervous than usual, wearing his house robe and slippers.

"You guys shouldn't be here," he said, glancing between them.

"Well, too bad, because we need to know some things," Dean said. "Have you seen anything lately? Anything about Cas?"

Chuck just shook his head and hurried into the living room where he grabbed a bottle of whisky from the desk, taking a long drink. "Guys you really should leave," he said.

"Chuck, look, we're just trying to find Cas, he's been taken by the angels," Sam tried to appeal. "Also, we think he might have been trying to tell us something important. Do you have any idea what that might be?"

"Oh, god," Chuck moaned, running a hand over his face. "You can't ask me that! It's…"

Before he could get any further, the door blew open and Chuck squeaked and backed up against his desk before quickly ducking behind it. Sam and Dean spun around. Two men in suits stood there, dark expressions on their faces.

"Winchesters," one said, stepping forward. "You're coming with us."

"Chuck, what the hell?" Dean demanded.

"I told you shouldn't have come!" Chuck cried. "The angels have me monitored! I'm not allowed to say anything to anyone!"

"Son of a bitch," Dean growled, and pulled Cas' angel blade from inside his coat.

"Don't bother," one of the angels said, suddenly appearing behind Sam, a blade pressed to his throat. "It would be best for both of you if you just surrendered."

Dean glowered, but put the blade away. The other angel instantly strode forward and grabbed him, wrenching his arms behind his back. Dean turned to glare at Chuck who looked miserable.

"I'm sorry," the prophet tried.

In another second Dean felt the dizzying pull of angel travel and knew that it was too late to stop anything now.

* * *

 _A hard slap to the face yanked Castiel_ from the darkness of unconsciousness. He gasped, straightening with a rattle of chains before agony tore through his body, causing a strangled scream to rip from his abused throat.

"Now, Castiel, I can't have you trying to skip out on your punishment by passing out, now can I?" Zachariah's face appeared in front of him, swimming through Castiel's blurry vision, hazy with the pain.

"Still…here," he forced out.

"And still defiant?" Zachariah asked, raising an eyebrow. "Or have you figured out who you serve yet?"

Castiel kept his gaze for a long moment before silently slumping in his chains, unable to hold himself straight any longer. He concentrated on simply breathing through the pain before Zachariah decided what to do with him next. The holy fire burns had taken a lot out of him. Blistered patches of flesh covered his vessel, while his grace felt horribly frayed from the assault.

Zachariah growled low in his throat, obviously getting impatient. "I'm just going to have to tear you apart and put you back together, aren't I?"

But just then, the flap of wings told of angels arriving, along with a grunt of discomfort and the sound of a body being thrown to the ground.

Castiel swiftly glanced over, wondering with trepidation who this other prisoner might be who had offended Zachariah so. His heart fell when he saw who it was.

"Sam," he breathed as Zachariah turned to the new arrivals.

"Ah, Anias, I see our trap was sprung."

The angel nodded and bent to wrench Sam Winchester up by the back of his coat, causing the young man to struggle.

"Exactly as you predicted, sir. We found them skulking around the prophet's house."

Castiel hung his head in defeat. He hadn't thought that Sam and Dean might go to Chuck for information too, but he had left Dean with that cryptic message, and he should have known they would have been doing everything they could to figure out what he had wanted to tell them. He only hoped Chuck had been able to relay the message before they were caught.

Not that it would do any good now.

"And Dean? You caught him too?" Zachariah asked.

Anias nodded, a satisfied look on his face. "Yes, Noah has him interred where you wanted him."

"Very good. Things are starting to look up now," Zachariah said and strode over to Sam who was in an uncomfortable position on his knees, Anias' angel blade at his throat.

"Well, well, well, Sam Winchester," Zachariah said. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I see you're trying to kick the demon blood addiction. How's that treating you?"

"Screw you," Sam growled before his eyes flicked over the area, and finally lighted on Castiel. His eyes blew wide as he caught sight of the angel, and Castiel shook his head slightly, hoping he wouldn't protest. It would only make things worse for both of them.

Sam thankfully seemed to see his point and stayed silent. Zachariah nodded to Anias. "Just secure him for now. I'll have need of him later, right now I have other things to see to. Like continuing Castiel's lesson."

Sam was hauled to a dark alcove, and shoved into a chair. Anias quickly chained him hand and foot and forced a gag into his mouth. Sam struggled but he soon gave up, finding it all useless. Castiel hoped he would stay as quiet as possible. Zachariah would only hurt him if he tried to fight too much.

Zachariah walked back over to him now and Castiel fought a shudder; it seemed that his short reprieve had come to an end.

"Now, Castiel, don't think I've forgotten you. I'll have plenty of time to deal with Sam Winchester, and your punishment comes before everything. Perhaps it will even give Sam a little incentive to be more cooperative when the time comes. On that note, I think it's time to step it up a notch, don't you?" He bent so that his face was only inches in front of Castiel, trying to crowd him and make him intimidated. Castiel didn't think it worked very well.

"Why don't you show me your wings, Castiel," Zachariah said with no room for argument.

Castiel balked. No…Zachariah couldn't be asking him to do that. Not in his vessel—his wings were even more vulnerable in this form! And with his grace bound, any injuries meted upon his wings would likely heal poorly, if ever.

"No," he said instinctively.

Zachariah smirked slightly and bent to grip Castiel's jaw, leaning in close to speak directly into his ear. "Castiel, you would do well to manifest your wings now, or I will break Sam Winchester's ribs one by one and you can make up your mind while you listen to him scream."

Castiel's stomach lurched, glancing over at Sam who was watching the exchange between the two angels, though he didn't think Sam could hear what was being said—thankfully.

"Well, Castiel?" Zachariah said, raising a warning finger toward Sam, ready to make good on his threat.

Castiel gritted his teeth but he had no choice. He couldn't let that happen to Sam, especially while he was forced to watch, helpless to do anything. He slumped with a weary, resigned sigh, then closed his eyes and concentrated on bringing his wings onto the physical plane. It hurt; with his back so torn up and his grace frayed it was _agony_ , but soon his onyx wings flickered into their physical form, arching above his back.

He heard Sam's murmur of shock, but couldn't look at the younger Winchester. He didn't want him to think he was doing this because of him.

"Good boy, Castiel," Zachariah muttered patronizingly and circled around behind Castiel, _tsking_ as he took in his wings. "Look at these, they're a mess," he said, reaching out to run a hand roughly through the disheveled and singed feathers. Castiel flinched as Zachariah touched a particularly bad spot that had been touched by Hellfire, the feathers half burned away and the flesh underneath was painful scar tissue.

"I had a feeling you hadn't gotten out of Hell unscathed when you went in to drag Dean's sorry hide out—for what good that did."

Castiel couldn't help but glance toward Sam this time, and instantly regretted it, seeing the horror on the young man's face. Though Castiel wasn't sure whether it was hearing about his brother, or what Castiel had gone through or perhaps both, that caused the reaction.

To his surprise though, Zachariah stepped away from him and turned to Josiah and Malachi who had been watching the proceedings with almost eager looks. "You two continue with Castiel's punishment. I have some business to see to. I'll be back soon."

Castiel watched him go, Anias tagging along, not liking the sound of that at all, but he had other things to worry about, as he watched Malachi and Josiah peruse the table of torture implements again. His heart sank as Malachi picked up the lash and Josiah inspected the brand with a thoughtful look on his face.

"Well then, Castiel," Malachi said with an all too satisfied expression on his face. "Shall we continue?"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Dean blinked and stumbled as the angel who had grabbed him came out of flight. He regained his footing and spun around, glancing at his surroundings and the angel with a dark look on his face.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean growled, spinning around again. "Where the hell are we?"

He was in some huge fancy room that looked like something from one of those old pretentious movies with the posh British people and dancing.

"This is a place to keep you out of the way until we have need of you," the angel said firmly.

Dean realized something else then, and that was that he and the angel were the only ones there. "Wait, where the hell is my brother?"

The angel looked disinterested. "We thought it best to separate you two. You will not need him here with you anyway, and you'd likely only cause trouble."

"Oh yeah, well screw you!" Dean growled, starting toward the angel, and reaching into his coat for Cas' angel blade, but his captor simply waved a bored hand and Dean flew backwards to sit down heavily in a chair. The angel stepped forward and snatched the blade from Dean, slipping it into his own coat.

"Stay," the angel said as if he were talking to a dog. "Zachariah will be here soon to explain your situation."

"Oh, awesome. I've been wanting to get a word in with that dickhead." Dean grunted as he tried to pry himself from the chair, but the angel was obviously using mojo on him and he was stuck fast. He gave up with another curse and ground his teeth, furious at his helpless position without any clue as to what happened to Sammy. He didn't exactly trust the angels to treat him well.

He sat there for a while, still trying to wrench himself free while his angel guard just watched him with a sneering, baleful look.

Then finally, the flap of wings was heard.

"Thank you, Noah, you can let him up now."

Dean glanced over and saw Zachariah appear with the angel who had nabbed Sam. He was released from the hold and surged to his feet.

"You son of a bitch," Dean snarled, stepping toward Zachariah without a thought as to what he was actually going to do. "Where the hell is my brother?"

"Ah-ah, Dean, let's not be hasty," Zachariah said in that annoyingly pleasant voice of his. The angel behind him had stepped forward, but Zachariah waved him off. "Easy, Anias, we've got this handled. Dean won't do anything rash—will you, Dean?" Zachariah cast a warning glance at him and Dean clenched his jaw but stopped, fists tightening at his sides.

"Only if you start talking, chuckles."

Zachariah sighed slightly, taking a step toward Dean. "Your brother is safe for now."

"Where is he?" Dean demanded again.

"He's being…detained elsewhere," Zachariah replied evasively.

"Okay, for that matter, what the hell did you do with Cas?"

Zachariah's eyebrows shot up. "Castiel? Why should you care?"

Dean glowered at him. "Oh, I don't know, maybe because I'm the closest thing to a friend he has, considering you and the other flying asshats aren't exactly healthy relationship material."

Zachariah smirked slightly, but evaded the question. "Don't concern yourself with Castiel. He's where he should be right now. Just like you."

"And what the hell does that mean? What is this place?" Dean gestured to their surroundings.

"This?" Zachariah made a grand gesture. "Call it a greenroom. We're closing in on the grand finale, and we want to keep you safe before showtime."

"Hold on," Dean help up his hand. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means," Zachariah said. "That it's almost time for you to do what we saved your sorry ass from Hell for to begin with. Stop the apocalypse."

Dean frowned. He did not have time for this right now. Zachariah started pacing, hands clasped behind his back.

"You may not be aware of this, but all the Seals have fallen—except one."

"Well that's an impressive score—that's right up there with the Washington Generals," Dean quipped.

Zachariah turned back to him. "You think sarcasm is appropriate? Considering you started all this?"

Dean felt his stomach clench. Yes, he was well aware that he had started the apocalypse, broken the First Seal. He wished people would stop reminding him of that. It obviously wasn't going to change anything.

"What is it you want from me exactly?" Dean demanded, swallowing his inner turmoil. "Because there's a million other things I could be doing right now than sitting around on my ass here, twiddling my thumbs."

"All in good time," Zachariah said in an infuriatingly calm voice. "You let us worry about the details. We'll let you know when we have need of your services."

"Okay, well, I don't have the time right now," Dean snapped and started forward to find an exit for all the good that would do, but one of Zach's angel goons stepped forward, barring his path to the door. He spun back around to see that the table in the middle of the room was now covered with a platter of hamburgers and a fancy bowl with bottles of beer—Dean's favorite label—on ice. He stopped, frowning, as Zachariah smiled and gestured to the display.

"Have a burger. They're your favorite. From that seaside shack in Delaware—you were eleven, I think."

"I'm not hungry," Dean grunted.

"No?" Zachariah stepped closer to him with a knowing smirk. "How about Ginger from Season Two of Gilligan's Island? You do have a thing for her, don't you?"

"Okay, bail on the holodeck," Dean snapped, weirded out that Zachariah would even suggest that. "I don't know what your play is here, but I know you're not just keeping me here to stop the friggin' apocalypse. God knows, I want to do that anyway, so there would be no reason for the extra security. So you can either tell me what I'm really doing here, or I'm leaving."

"Let us worry about the details, Dean," Zachariah said again, voice losing all pleasantness. "You just worry about being a good little soldier. Like your father taught you."

Anger flared in Dean at the mocking tone. "Alright, that's it. I'm out." He strode toward the door on one side of the room and reached for the handle. In the blink of an eye it disappeared, leaving only a wall. Dean spun around, looking for another way out, but not finding one.

He stormed back over to Zachariah. "Okay, this isn't funny anymore. Tell me where you've hid Sam and Cas, and I might not stab you in the throat."

"Oh, the only thing that's funny here is that you are laboring under the assumption that you have the upper hand," Zachariah said and suddenly swung a fist into Dean's stomach.

The hunter doubled over with a choked off cry and felt the angel goons restraining him before he could recover.

"Get him up," Zachariah snapped and they wrenched him upright so the douchebag could deliver another punishing blow to Dean's stomach.

He choked, legs giving out as he tried to regain his breath. Zachariah's hands were gripping the front of his jacket and he hauled him up and slammed him against the wall.

"Listen to me, you little maggot," he snarled, pressing his face all too close to Dean's for comfort. "I've worked hard to get where I am, and I'll be damned if some mudmonkey ruins it for me now. So you're going to do what I tell you to, or I'm going to take it out of your hide, do you understand?"

Dean glowered at him, then glanced down at Zachariah's hands and the white sleeves of his shirt peeking out from his suit jacket. They were not completely white, though, but flecked with red. Dean swallowed hard.

"You have a shaving accident there, Zach?" he quipped to hide his unease.

Zachariah looked down at his sleeves and _tsked_. "Ah, thank you for pointing that out. I must have missed a spot—torture can be so… messy."

Dread welled up in Dean's stomach. "You touch Sam or Cas again, I'll kill you," he said in a low voice.

Zachariah only smiled. "I'm afraid you really have no say in the matter." He let Dean go and shoved him hard against the wall. "Now, be a good boy, Dean, and stay here while I go see to…other business."

"Zachariah, you bastard!" Dean snarled, but Zachariah waved a hand at him and threw him back against the wall. Dean slammed into it hard and crumpled to the ground.

"Keep an eye on the place, I've already called in a few extra men for you," Zachariah told the angel who had nabbed Dean, straightening his suit. "The boss will call with he's ready."

The angel, Noah, Dean thought his name was, nodded, and then all three of them disappeared, leaving Dean in the room alone. He scrambled to his feet and rushed around, slamming his fists into the walls, and looking for any sign of a way out, but there was none.

He kicked a wall in frustration and then settled his back to it, slumping down to the floor with his head in his hands.

How the hell were they going to get out of this now?

* * *

 _Sam couldn't believe what he was watching_ right now. He had just come to terms with the fact he had found Castiel, and he was at least glad of that—or would be if the angel wasn't chained up, looking like he'd just been through the Spanish Inquisition. And as if that hadn't been bad enough, Zachariah had just…Sam couldn't even believe it.

All he knew was that Zachariah had said something to Castiel that Sam hadn't been able to hear and Cas had glanced over at him before looking at the ground. And then suddenly _he had wings._ Real, actual wings. Black, and huge and somehow it seemed like making them visible was a big thing. Something that Cas hadn't wanted to do. And worse, Sam had the terrible feeling that Cas had done it for him. Zach had likely threatened him to get Cas to do that, and Sam was sick with that thought.

And now it looked like Sam was going to have to watch Cas be tortured even more.

Zachariah left, but the other two angels in the room stayed and took a flail and a brand from a cart nearby before they advanced on Castiel and his vulnerable wings.

"Well then, Castiel," one said with a gleeful sneer. "Shall we continue?"

"Do your worst," Cas said almost resignedly.

One of the angels, the one with the whip stepped behind him and looked over the wings that Castiel had folded against his back as if trying to make them as small as possible. He sneered. "Zachariah was right, your wings look positively awful."

"Now, now Malachi," said the other angel. "Castiel got these scars in battle. Saving the Righteous Man from Hell." He smirked as he looked down at Castiel who stared balefully up at him. "For what good that did. Now Dean Winchester has forsaken his duty and taken you with him in his rebellion."

Castiel shook his head. "It is not Dean who has forsaken his duty, it is Heaven that has forsaken him."

Sam glanced at Castiel then, curious as to what he meant, but the angels seemed done with their chatting. The angel with the whip, Malachi, stepped closer to Cas and reached out to take a firm grip of his wing. "Now this won't do, Castiel, I'll need you more submissive than this. Josiah, come help me."

The second angel set the brand aside for the moment and came around to join Malachi. He reached out and grabbed Cas' wing and after a short struggle, wrenched it into an open position, holding it as he stood to one side out of reach of Malachi's swing.

Malachi gave the whip a practice swing, smirking. "You'll learn your place soon enough, Castiel. And once Zachariah is completely done with you, your loyalties to those human fleshbags will be only a distant, regrettable memory."

Sam's eyes blew wide as Malachi swung the lash toward Castiel's open wing. The blow landed and Cas's whole body tensed in obvious agony, a groan escaping his throat. Feathers fluttered to the ground, some whole, some not. Malachi swung again and Josiah had a hard time keeping Cas' wing held open.

"Do you feel repentant yet, Castiel?" Malachi asked. "Because you will."

A shattered cry broke from Cas' throat as another blow landed. Sam was jerking at his chains for all the good it would do even if he did get free. On the next blow, spatters of blood joined the feathers on the ground and Sam felt tears of rage and helplessness prick his eyes as Cas stopped trying to muffle his screams. Sam screamed past his gag too, giving one last herculean effort to free himself, feeling the chains cut into his arms and legs, but they weren't going anywhere. He was too weak, the demon blood had destroyed him. Even if he had anything to pick the lock with, his hands would be shaking too much to do so, and how could he hope to overpower two angels and get Cas out of there? He was no longer the warrior he had once been. He'd made sure of that himself, trying to get stronger, but all the demon blood had done was make him weaker. And now he was watching an angel, the only angel who had believed in him, be cruelly tortured in front of him, and his brother could be anywhere, having the same thing done to him for all Sam knew. And here he was, weak and helpless.

He couldn't even save himself; how could he be expected to save the world?

He squeezed his eyes shut as Cas screamed again, loud enough that Sam could hear the ring of his true voice coming through. Sam wondered bitterly how much of their angelic friend would be left by the time they finally made a rescue.

If they ever did.

* * *

 _Dean picked up an ornate_ stand from one of the tables in the room and swung it at the wall. Hope welled up as he saw it dent. Okay, maybe the place wasn't impervious after all.

He swung it again and again, making it through the drywall before he blinked and it had all repaired itself.

"Son of a bitch!" he yelled and threw the thing to the ground, spinning around to look for something—anything—that could help him get the hell out of this place.

And then a figure appeared, but not Zachariah, a woman with red hair.

"Anna?" Dean gasped as she appeared in front of the door that had disappeared earlier when Dean had tried to leave.

"Hi, Dean," she said and then slumped against the wall, one hand pressed to her side where a patch of red was starting.

"Hey, you all right?" Dean demanded, rushing forward to offer her a hand.

"Fine," she gritted out. "We need to get out of here. I took care of the guards but more will be on the way before long." She gasped slightly and Dean took her weight before she collapsed, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Here," she handed him an angel blade. "It's Cas'. I took it off one of the guards."

Dean took it from her and slid it into the back of his belt before he supported Anna's weight while she led him out of the room. Dean looked around in shock.

"The hell?" It was an old warehouse with three dead angels lying on the ground. He spun back around and saw that the 'room' he had been in was just a broken down office, way smaller than it had looked on the inside.

"Pocket dimensions," Anna told him. "Come on, Dean, we need to get out of here."

He nodded and helped her outside, looking around. "Where are we?"

"Van Nuys," Anna said.

Dean rolled his eyes with a sigh. "I'll get us a car, you shouldn't fly in your condition; especially with a passenger."

"I'm fine," she gritted out, trying to push away from him to prove it. "It's not too bad." The fact she almost collapsed told otherwise, and Dean caught her.

"Yeah, right. Look, do you know where they have Sam and Cas?"

Anna shook her head regrettably. "No. I heard they caught you and knew where you would be so I came here first. But I have an idea about how we can find Cas or Sam."

"Okay, well, let's go find a motel; I'll patch you up and we can try to get our bearings."

"We don't have time for this," she protested but her voice was slurring and she was getting heavier in his grip. He looked down at the wound in her side where her hand was peeling off of it, and saw the glow of angel grace peeking through.

"Dammit," Dean muttered. "Anna, just stay with me for a second longer, okay?"

But she was already slipping from his grip and he had to crouch down in order not to drop her. He cursed, seeing her whole side slicked with blood. Not too bad, his ass. He swiftly took off his jacket and flannel and tore the sleeves off the flannel. Making a pad with the rest of the shirt, he used the sleeves to secure it around Anna's waist. Hopefully that would hold until he could get a better look at it.

"All right, hang tight," he muttered to her, before he hurried off toward anything that could be of use. Thankfully, he found a gas station not too far down the road and out behind the place, an old Honda no one would see him take. He sent a silent apology to the owner and hotwired it before gunning it back to the factory. Thankfully, Anna was still where he had left her and he ran over and picked her up, carrying her back to the car and settling her into the front passenger seat. He watched worriedly as she slumped against the window, then put the car in gear again, driving a while to make sure he wouldn't be attached to the car theft and then finally coming across a scummy motel.

Anna still hadn't woken up, but Dean knew from experience with Cas that angels typically just slept injuries off. Still, he'd so what he could for her.

He paid for a room and carried Anna inside to get her settled before he hurried across the street to pick up some medical supplies and food from a convenience store.

Once he got back, Anna still hadn't woken up. He bit his lip worriedly, partly for the severity of her wound, and partly for the fact that they were running out of time to find Sam and Cas. If Zachariah had them both, then Dean was not willing to pretend they were at all safe. And he already knew Cas had been tortured…

But he set to work, taking care of Anna's wound because that was something he could do. He hissed as he loosened the makeshift bandages and peeled up her bloody shirt. It was a long, deep gash down her side, bleeding heavily with wisps of blue grace still escaping as well. He wondered if he should stitch it, but remembered how quickly Cas' wounds had healed with a little sleep, so he just butterflied it closed instead and taped gauze over it. Once he had finished and cleaned up, he gently pulled a blanket over the unconscious angel, reaching down to brush some hair away from her face. He kind of had to wonder why Anna was helping them again. The last time it hadn't gone so well for her. He'd almost been forced to hand her over to the angels for, most likely, the same treatment they were giving Cas now. And now she'd been wounded rescuing him.

He sighed and sat down on the other bed, grabbing the bag from the convenience store and taking out some of the food he had bought. This waiting game was infuriating. He didn't even have his phone on him anymore to call Bobby. The angels must have taken it.

He was about to use the phone in the room to call Bobby, figuring the older hunter would be furious, not having heard from them for a long time, when Anna stirred and moaned.

Dean was on his feet instantly, bending over her. "Anna? Hey, easy."

She started awake, but collapsed back on the pillows with a wince, gasping. "Dean…" she said, looking around.

"It's okay, we're safe," Dean told her, holding out a hand. "How are you doing?"

She closed her eyes as if taking stock of her body. "My wound is healing, but we don't have time to sit around here." She started to sit up, but Dean grabbed her shoulders, keeping her in the bed.

"Whoa, just hold on a minute. You were wounded pretty bad."

"We don't have a minute, Dean," Anna snapped. "If you want to find your brother and Castiel in one piece we have to figure out where they are now."

"Okay, then, how do we do that?" Dean demanded, frustrated and conflicted between wanting to find Sam and his friend and wanting to keep Anna from straining herself.

Anna's eyes traveled to his shoulder. "That scar on your arm. I think I can use it to find Cas."

Dean's eyes widened, as he looked down to his shoulder, covered by his jacket. "That? Anna, when Pamela tried to find him that way he burned her eyes out."

"That's because she tried to do it through a psychic connection," Anna said. "He couldn't stop her from looking at his true form. Besides, I'm an angel, it wouldn't hurt me anyway."

"Why would it work?" Dean asked.

"Because Cas had to claim your soul to get you out of hell," Anna told him. "That's why it left a mark."

Dean didn't know what to say to that, he just shrugged out of his jacket and rolled up the sleeve of his t-shirt. "Okay, what do we do?"

"Just be quiet and let me concentrate," Anna said and reached out to touch the scar, closing her eyes. Dean sat on the side of the bed uncomfortably and then all of a sudden he felt a tingling in the scar. "Um, Anna."

"Shh, almost got it," she murmured, and then gasped. Dean was about to ask her what was wrong when his whole body was suddenly consumed with agony. He cried out in surprise, jerking. Anna's eyes flew open and she snatched her hand away from his arm, the pain stopped, only a dull memory.

"What the hell was that?" Dean demanded, hand clapped over the scar.

Anna panted, a haunted look on her face. "Cas. It was Cas. Tapping into his location through your scar tapped into his subconscious. He's in agony."

Dean tugged his jacket on, swallowing hard. "Did you get a location?"

"A general one," Anna said. "We should be able to find him once we get there."

Dean helped her off the bed, but she seemed to be doing a little better now. He quickly grabbed his stuff and led the way out to the stolen car. He wished he hadn't had to leave the Impala at Chuck's house. He would definitely be back for it.

"He's somewhere in Northern California, San Francisco area," Anna told him as they got into the car.

"Great, so surprisingly not too far," Dean said.

"If I recover sufficiently before then I'll fly us there," Anna told him.

Dean nodded, concentrating on driving as Anna rested in the passenger seat. He tried not to focus too much on the memory of the pain that had ripped through him, apparently coming from Cas. What the hell had Zachariah done to him?

He glanced over at Anna then, watching her staring out the window at the highway slipping past them.

"Hey, um, look, it's not that I'm not grateful for you helping us out, but I kinda have to ask—why?" he said.

Anna turned to him with a frown. "Why wouldn't I?"

Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, because we kinda almost gave you up to the angels before. And you wouldn't have been any better off than Cas is now."

"I already told you it wasn't your fault they put you into that position, Dean, that's what they do," Anna said bitterly. "I don't blame you for choosing your brother over me. For the record, if it were me, and it was Cas on the line, I would have given you up too."

Dean glanced over at her again. "You two are really close, aren't you?"

"We were, once upon a time," Anna said quietly, sadly. "I just feel like I failed him. When I chose to fall, I couldn't bear the thought of bringing anyone else with me, knowing what they would have to endure. I couldn't force anyone to that decision even though I felt it was right. And now Cas is there anyway, suffering all the same, and I wasn't able to be there to help guide him."

"I get that," Dean said softly. "One thing I've had to learn being a big brother is that you're just gonna have to accept you're not always gonna be there when they need you. But you can try to be there to pick up the pieces afterward, and count yourself lucky you can do that at least."

"I suppose you're right," Anna said.

Dean reached over and squeezed her hand comfortingly. "We'll get them both back."

"Oh, I know we will," Anna said with steely determination. "And anyone who hurt them will have hell to pay."

"Damn straight," Dean replied, and pushed his foot into the pedal a little harder, not wanting to waste any second they didn't have to.


	5. Chapter 5

**Well, it looks like a rescue is on the way!**

 **Also, disclaimer: I don't think there are actually old abandoned railway stations under historic San Francisco I just needed someplace they could drive to within a reasonable amount of time LOL. I wrote myself into a corner with that one. Just thought I'd mention that was creator's license before everyone comments on it.**

Chapter Five

Castiel had never experienced something so painful in his entire life.

His wing, his grace, his very _being_ was in agony. Every time the lash struck his open wing it was like he was being undone. It was a thousand times worse than when Zachariah had lashed his back, it was even worse than the holy fire; it was so bad he couldn't even think for the agony.

And worse, Sam Winchester had to watch this happen to him. The young man was struggling to free himself from the chains he was bound with, screaming past his gag at the angels to stop. It was a nice sentiment, but Castiel knew they would never stop.

Until they did, finally, at along last. Josiah released his hold on Castiel's wing and he couldn't even hold it up anymore. His wing simply flopped down his side, dragging on the ground, painting smears of blood across the concrete with the feathers that were left.

"Well, he's actually looking surprisingly humbled. Good job, Malachi."

Castiel dragged his head up to see that Zachariah had returned with Anias, a smug look on his face, masking some underlying annoyance. Castiel had a feeling he had been to see Dean. He hoped that the hunter was okay.

"He is on his way to being repentant, sir," Malachi said, reaching down to grip a fistful of Castiel's hair, wrenching his head back. "Isn't that right, Castiel?"

Castiel grunted, and met Zachariah's eyes again.

"Can you tell me who you serve, Castiel?" Zachariah asked.

Castiel attempted to gather enough saliva in his mouth to speak. "I don't serve you," he rasped, his voice all but ruined from screaming.

Zachariah sighed heavily. "You are the most stubborn creature I have ever met…aside from Dean Winchester," Zachariah snarled. "Very well, we'll have to continue. You really are determined to make me cut you apart, aren't you, Castiel?" He strode back over to the cart and picked up the holy fire brand again. Castiel's heart flipped.

"Malachi, hold out his other wing," Zachariah said. "You'll have to tell me, Castiel, how holy fire compares to hellfire in intensity."

A rattle of chains and a protesting snarl came from Sam, and Zachariah spared a glance over his shoulder at him, smirking.

"Seems we have an eager audience. I seem to have underestimated the Winchesters' loyalty to you, Castiel. Dean threatened to stab me if I hurt you again. I guess I'm just going to have to take that chance."

Castiel braced himself for even more unspeakable agony, when the flap of wings was heard and another angel appeared.

"Zachariah," she said, urgently.

"Can't you see I'm busy, Deborah?" Zachariah said to her.

"Sir, it's important. We just got word that the angels you set to guard the room were attacked, and Dean Winchester has escaped."

Castiel's eyes flew wide as he turned to look at Deborah. Sam also turned his attention to the angel. Zachariah's hand tightened on the brand but he finally turned around.

"And how exactly did that happen?"

She shook her head. "Reports said it was the rebel, Anna."

Castiel exhaled sharply. Anna. She had come back.

"Dammit," Zachariah snapped and Castiel nearly smiled before the angel spun around toward Sam. "Where is your brother?"

Sam shook his head with a helpless shrug.

"Zachariah, how could he know?" Castiel called. "Dean is most likely out looking for his brother as we speek." Castiel really hoped he wasn't, he and Anna would only be walking into a trap if they came here.

"That would be expected," Zachariah said. "Unless, Dean has a bolt hole, or, perhaps, it's Anna who has a hideout somewhere." He turned back to Castiel. "And if anyone would know where that was, it would be you, wouldn't it, Castiel?" He strode toward the captive angel again, leaning over Castiel with a knowing look. "You and Anna were always close. I bet she's the one who helped turn your mind now too. Urged you to rebel like her."

"Even if I did know where she was, I would never tell you," Castiel said firmly.

"Oh, I know that," Zachariah said, straightening up and heading back toward the cart of tools. At least he'd seemed to lose his interest in the brand, but Castiel didn't allow himself to relax yet. Zachariah pulled a box from a lower shelf of the table and opened it, striding back over to Castiel. "I know you'll never tell me willingly. And while I would love to take you apart piece by piece until you screamed the answers I want, I just don't have time for that right now. So…" He pulled the contents from the box and Castiel blanched in confusion, not knowing what it was he held. "We'll have to resort to other methods."

Malachi and Josiah came to flank Castiel, hands gripping his shoulders to hold him still. Castiel watched as Zachariah advanced on him with the strange contraption, some sort of metal basket with screws sticking out of it. It didn't look pleasant whatever it was.

"Hold him still," Zachariah snapped and the angels each grabbed Castiel's head, one gripping his chin, the other the back of his neck. He struggled furiously, seeing exactly what the contraption was for now. Zachariah settled it over his head and tightened the straps.

"Now, let's see if I can remember how this works," Zachariah said and twisted one of the screws, which began to bore into Castiel's skull.

"Zachariah stop!" Castiel tried to protest, wincing. "My vessel…"

"Your vessel is tucked away safe and sound," Zachariah sneered. "I have no interest in talking to him…as of now, anyway. As long as he doesn't know anything important." He twisted the pin further into Castiel's head.

The captive angel screamed, the pain and the terror overcoming him. He could hear Sam protesting in his corner too. Zachariah adjusted several more of the screws, sending them deep into Castiel's head.

On the fourth or fifth one, things started to get a little fuzzy. He blinked to clear his vision, then screamed as Zachariah adjusted one of the screws again. A dull ringing started in his ears.

"Now, Castiel, I want you to tell me where the traitor Anna is," Zachariah said and twisted one screw deeper still.

Castiel's only answer was another scream torn from his throat.

* * *

 _They reached the city limits of San Francisco_ and Dean was forced to slow down, which made him antsy.

"Okay, so how do we find them now?" he asked Anna.

Anna glanced out the window. "Keep heading toward the center of the city. That's where I felt Castiel's grace emanating from."

"Can you try again now that we're here?" he asked.

Anna shook her head. "It won't do any good. They have likely taken precautions. By now they'll know you're gone and they'll be looking for you. It's only likely someone will know it was me who helped you."

Dean glanced over at her. "Anna, I'm sorry for dragging you into even more trouble…"

"Don't. I make my own decisions. This is not on you, Dean."

His mouth twisted in discomfort. "Still. I don't…Anna, before…"

"Dean," she said softly. "You can't feel guilty for what happened to me. You have a family to look out for. I only have myself." Then she looked at him from under her eyelashes as he stopped at a red light and glanced over at her. "And for what it's worth, you did give me one of the best nights of my life."

Heat flared up the back of Dean's neck and he cleared his throat, but he couldn't help but admit her comment pleased him. He managed a small ghost of his usual smirk. "Well, uh, I guess that's something at least." He scrubbed a hand through his hair. "But now, we need to save our brothers," he said quickly, trying to switch gears back to his upstairs brain. Now was definitely not the time for _that_.

Anna nodded. "There is one way we may be able to find him. When…when angels are in pain, sometimes it manifests itself physically."

Dean frowned. "Like…how?"

"Strange occurrences," Anna told him. "Almost like demon sign, but, not quite so destructive. Spontaneous combustion of vegetation, power outages, sometimes even freak storms."

Dean swallowed hard, hating the thought that Cas might be suffering so much that his pain would manifest itself physically. "So we follow a path of weird?"

Anna nodded. "In theory."

Dean slowed to a stop, looking ahead at a traffic jam. He frowned, wondering if there had been an accident, seeing police cars up ahead at the intersection, but then he noticed that the traffic lights were out. He looked over to either side of the street and saw that the shops lining the road were also dark. He glanced toward Anna. "Kinda like that?" he grunted.

"I don't think it would be coincidence," she said. "We're getting close."

* * *

 _Sam blinked tears of relief_ from his eyes when Zachariah finally stepped away from Castiel with a frustrated sigh, giving the angel a reprieve. Cas slumped limply in his chains, shuddering with labored breaths. Sam's ears were still ringing from the piercing frequency that had accompanied Cas' screams. He had still not given anything up, though Sam was pretty certain Cas didn't have anything to give up. As far as he knew Cas hadn't known where Anna was either.

"This is really starting to get old, Castiel," Zachariah said. "What am I going to have to do to get you to talk?"

Cas didn't answer, still slumped in his chains. Sam wondered if he was even conscious at this point. He hadn't been able to watch the angel's torment once Zachariah started screwing the pins into his head, but it hadn't done much good. Hearing his screams had been enough.

A door opened somewhere further down the tunnel, echoing in the open space and the sound of struggling and the clank of chains could be heard. Sam's heart seized, afraid the angels had caught Dean and Anna after all, but as two angels came into sight, he was relived to see an unknown man chained up and being dragged between them. Then he instantly reprimanded himself. He shouldn't wish the angels' torments on anyone else.

"Ah," Zachariah said, turning to them. "Looks like it's time to take a break. I've been ignoring my other guest." He glanced over at Sam briefly before he turned back to the angels and their captive.

"Good work, boys," Zachariah said. "This almost makes up for losing Dean so quickly. At least we'll have one of them ready." He drew his blade and brandished it at the captive who was gagged as well as chained. Zachariah pressed the blade to the man's cheek and sliced quickly.

Blood pooled from the wound, and a drop fell to the ground. A familiar, dizzying scent assaulted Sam's nostrils and he inhaled sharply _. A demon_.

His stomach cramped sickly and he tried to force down the craving for the blood, but with his gag he could only breathe through his nose and there was no way to not smell the fresh blood that Zachariah had spilled. Probably on purpose.

"Drain it," Zachariah told the two angels and they nodded, dragging the protesting demon over to a dark alcove of the tunnel. Sam heard a gurgling scream and then the scent of the demon's blood got so strong, he nearly retched. Zachariah turned around to face him fully now.

"Well, Sam, it looks like you'll finally be of some use in the whole scheme of things," he said, clasping his hands behind his back and striding over to stand in front of Sam.

Sam gave him a questioning look and Zachariah rolled his eyes and reached out to tug Sam's gag free roughly. "What do you want with me?" the hunter demanded.

"What do we want with you?" the angel raised his eyebrows as if Sam had asked a dumb question. "Why, to help us stop the apocalypse, of course."

"I thought I was an abomination," Sam said, trying to keep the roiling in his stomach at bay. He was torn between wanting to fight his chains to get to the demon blood and simply throwing up at the scent of it.

"Oh, you are, Sam, sure enough," the angel said. "But it turns out we have need of your…special abilities. You're the only one who can kill Lilith, kiddo, and we need you to do it, before she breaks the final Seal."

There was a rattle of chains and a moan. Sam's eyes flicked over to Cas whose eyes were open again, looking straight at him. "Sam…no," he croaked. "It's not…"

The angel, Malachi, strode forward and shoved one of the pins further into Cas' skull, causing the angel to be cut off with a strangled cry. Zachariah nodded in approval.

"We just need to get you fit and ready for the final battle, Sam."

Sam's eyes widened and the angels who had brought the demon in, came over with two buckets filled with demon blood. Sam gagged as they put it at his feet and he turned his head away.

"No," he said firmly. "Look, if you want me to kill Lilith, I'll do it, but I'll find another way. I swore never to touch that stuff again."

"Well, hate to break it to you, but you're not leaving here until you drink every drop of this," Zachariah said firmly. "You'll need it to be strong enough to fight Lilith."

Sam narrowed his eyes at the angel. "Then I guess I'll just sit here forever then."

Zachariah moved so fast, Sam didn't even know what hit him. One minute he was chained to the chair, the next his chains were broken, all but the ones around his wrists, and Zachariah had him in a firm grip, yanking him to his feet.

"You listen to me, boy," Zachariah snarled into Sam's face. "You are not going to screw this up for me any more than you and your insufferable smartass of a brother already have. You really don't think I can _make_ you do whatever I want?"

Sam snarled at him them, beyond the point of caring about consequences. Chances were they were all going to die soon anyway. What was the worst thing Zachariah could do to him? "You know what I think? I think you can't even keep your own soldiers in line. You've spent the past several hours trying to force Castiel to do what you want him to, and he's still not giving in. So screw you, I'll take my chances."

"Insolent pissant!" Zachariah snarled and forced Sam to his knees, one hand fisted in his hair and another clenching his shoulder so tightly Sam expected something to break. But he forgot all of that as Zachariah shoved him forward, forcing his head into one of the buckets of demon blood. Sam flailed, struggling against Zachariah, but the angel had an iron grip and he only forced Sam's head further into the blood, fully submerging his face so that he couldn't breathe.

"All of you will bend to my will before this is over!" Zachariah said. "I'm in charge until Michael comes to earth, and I want everything to be set for him. So you _will do_ your duty. All of you will!"

"Zachariah!" Sam heard Cas' voice as if from far away. "Leave that boy alone."

"You have no authority here," Zachariah sneered with a derisive chuckle.

Sam was blacking out. He was holding out for as long as he could, but he needed air. Zachariah tightened his hand in Sam's hair insistently.

"Drink it, boy! If you drown I'll only bring you back and do it over and over and over again," Zachariah snarled at him.

Sam struggled, but he was weakening. He heard Cas give more weak protests before he was cut off with another scream, and Sam let out a helpless sob before he was powerless against the warm, thick blood that filled his nose and mouth, consuming him.

* * *

 _Dean and Anna followed the trail_ of power outages, seeming to center in on an older part of the city, but one that was just as populated.

"Okay, so there's not going to be any abandoned warehouses around here," Dean muttered wryly. "So where the hell would Zachariah set up a makeshift prison in the middle of San Francisco?"

"This is an old part of town," Anna said and then gasped and looked out the window. "Look!"

Dean's eyes widened as he caught sight of what she had seen and pulled off to the side of the road. He and Anna both got out of the car and hurried over to the group of shocked bystanders.

"What's going on?" he asked a woman standing by watching the sight as sirens sounded out, hailing the fire engine that tore up the road.

"It was so strange," she said. "I was just walking down the street and all of a sudden this tree just caught fire."

Dean shared a glance with Anna and she nodded slightly. "Huh, that is strange," he muttered and turned away to leave the befuddled people to explain what had happened to the firemen.

"You think that's a sign?" he asked.

She nodded. "We're getting close." She looked around then, a furrow in her brows. "Dean…this part of town. It's a historical district, there may be some place off the typical tourists' trails here that Zachariah could hole up."

Something surfaced in Dean's memory then. "Hold on, I think I have an idea." He jogged back to the car and Anna hurried behind him, climbing back inside. Dean pulled out onto the road as he explained. "A few years back my dad and I worked a case here, and we found out that there's old railway tunnels running underneath the town. They're not in use anymore, so they attract a lot of unwanted visitors." He drove down several side streets, trying to get his bearings. "I think…yeah, right over here."

He pulled into a parking lot and got out, motioning to Anna again. "The entrance is over here."

It was blocked off for safety, but Dean easily kicked the lock open and pushed inside, Anna right on his heels.

It was dark and he pulled a flashlight from his jacket, but he could already tell that someone had been here recently. There was warding painted on the walls.

"Concealing sigils," Anna said, touching one. "Just as I thought."

They walked further until they saw lights up ahead and the sound of voices could be heard. Dean and Anna stopped and pressed themselves against the side of the tunnel in case they could be seen. Dean could clearly make out Zachariah's voice and then a sudden gut-wrenching scream with a ring of some sort of familiar frequency in it. Anna paled.

"Cas," she whispered.

Dean swallowed hard and motioned for her to edge forward. The tunnel opened into a train station and Dean took in the scene there.

The first thing he saw was Zachariah standing smugly in the middle of the platform, looming over a crumpled figure. Dean knew it was Sam instantly, though couldn't tell what shape his brother was in. Anger flared up in him just at knowing Zachariah was near him though.

"Dean," Anna hissed and pointed to one side of the platform.

Dean's jaw fell open despite himself. There was Cas. He was chained between two pillars, on his knees, and from their point of view, all Dean could see was a mess of blood and black feathers.

"Son of a bitch," he hissed. "What the hell… are those wings?"

"I'll kill him," Anna said firmly. "He forced Castiel to manifest his wings. Dean, the agony that would have caused him…"

More rage welled up in Dean and he clutched Cas' angel blade tighter in his hand. "We gotta get them out of here."

Sam's figure suddenly shuddered and he vomited on the ground. For some reason that made Zachariah furious and he started yelling again and then kicked Sam in the stomach, sending him flying into a wall.

Dean started forward, but Anna yanked him back firmly with a hand on his arm.

"Don't, there's too many of them," she hissed.

Dean glanced around and saw reluctantly that she was right. Aside from Zachariah, there were five other angels in the room, two of which seemed to be guarding Cas.

"What do we do then?" he demanded.

"Stay here," Anna told him, drawing her own blade. "I'll draw some of them off, get them to follow me. When I do, you step in and take out the others. I'll find you when I can."

"Anna, that's idiotic!" Dean snapped.

She gave him a small smile. "Tell me you wouldn't do the same?"

Dean sighed, and nodded. "True."

"You have the element of surprise. Malachi and Josiah will be more worried about torturing Cas than looking for a rescue party," she told him. "Don't hesitate to use the blade, just…whatever you do, don't use the banishing sigil. It will work on Cas too, and in his condition," she shuddered slightly. "I will kill him."

Dean swallowed hard but nodded. "Okay."

Anna nodded back and disappeared.

Dean clutched the angel blade tighter and waited for his moment.

* * *

 _Zachariah yanked Sam out_ of the bucket and threw him to the ground, just before he passed out. Sam sputtered and coughed, gasping in air past the sticky blood that coated the inside of his nose and mouth. He'd been unable to help swallowing some of it, and he could feel it roiling inside of him already.

"You've got the taste for it again now, haven't you, you disgusting abomination?" Zachariah sneered, looming over Sam's limp figure. "You'll be unable to help yourself to the rest.

But Zachariah was wrong. Sam's chains were loose, disarranged when Zachariah had pulled him angrily from his chair, and he wriggled one of his hands free, not even hesitating a second to shove a finger down his throat.

He retched violently and kept vomiting, his body doing the rest of the work to evacuate the foreign substance. He quickly rubbed some of the blood from his face with his sleeve too, finally able to see again.

Zachariah growled with rage. "You little bitch!" he kicked Sam hard in this stomach and the hunter flew backwards with a grunt, rolling several more feet, his stomach aching. "I'll force it down your throat if I have to!"

Sam prepared himself to fight for all he was worth, but he didn't have to. One of the other angels called out if surprise as there was the sound of wings flapping.

"Hello, Zach, I heard you were looking for me."

Sam blinked in surprise as he saw Anna standing there. His breath caught in his throat. Had she betrayed Dean? But then where was his brother?

"You," Zachariah snarled.

"That's right," Anna said. "You want to know where Dean is? Then you best come find him." And with that she disappeared.

"After her!" Zachariah shouted, snapping to the two angels who had brought the demon in. "The rest of you stay here!" And then he and his lackeys were gone.

Sam struggled to get on his hands and knees, but his head swam, the heady effects of even the small bit of demon blood he had ingested compromising him. He couldn't believe he had craved this stuff at one point. Of course, part of his body still did, but he wouldn't let it defeat him this time. He wouldn't give into that craving. He _couldn't_. Not ever again.

Josiah strode over to him then, and reached down to grab him by the front of the shirt, hauling him upright and slamming him into the wall.

"Might as well give Zachariah a hand with you while he's busy," the angel sneered. "Let's see how much demon blood we can get down your throat before he comes back."

Sam struggled.

"No" Castiel forced out before a whimper escaped his throat as Malachi clenched a hand around his injured wing.

Josiah punched Sam in his already sore stomach, doubling him over and giving the angel a chance to shove him down in front of the buckets of demon blood again. The smell itself was overwhelming and Sam struggled for all he was worth.

"This will be easier if you stop fighting," Josiah snapped, a hand on the back of Sam's neck, forcing him down. "But on the other hand… a lot less fun."

Before he could shove Sam's face into the bucket again, though, a shout sounded further down the tunnel, followed by a flash of light. Sam whipped his head around to see what had happened and saw Anias falling off the platform and onto the unused rails in the tunnel.

As he collapsed, another figure leapt onto the platform as Sam watched with relief.

Dean.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Dean saw Zachariah disappear with two of his lackeys while Anna led them away. He cursed as he saw there were still three of the angels left, but Anna had been right, two of them seemed more interested in Cas. Well, one did, the other was heading straight over to Sam. That just left one for him to deal with first, that bastard who had nabbed Sam earlier.

Dean looked around and found a rock. He quickly picked it up and tossed it near the edge of the platform. Anias' head snapped up and he strode over to investigate the sound. Dean was crouched low and as the angel bent to look at it, Dean leapt up and stabbed the angel blade straight into the center of his chest. Anias gave a choked cry and then his eyes and mouth exploded with light. Dean hurriedly covered his eyes as the supernova engulfed him and then glanced up again as Anias' body collapsed in a heap onto the ground beside him.

Dean clambered onto the platform as the other two angels and Sam glanced over at him.

"Dean Winchester," said the one who was currently holding Sam over a bucket with some dark substance in it. "Nice of you to finally join us. Zachariah's been looking for you."

"Yeah, well, seems I missed him. That's a damn shame," Dean shrugged and glanced between the angels, and then Sam and Cas. Sam's face was covered in blood, and Dean felt rage bubbling up in him at the thought of what these flying douchebags might have done to his brother. But Cas…now that he could see the angel closer, Dean was instantly sickened by the sight of all the wounds, and his right wing was completely screwed to hell, hanging limply to one side while his other was folded protectively across his back. And there was also the horrifying contraption clamped around his head that looked like a medieval torture device. On top of it all, he seemed to be unconscious, or close to it.

Dean crouched to pick up the angel blade that Anias had dropped and held both blades casually in his hands now. "Guess I'll have to come back later. But I think I'll leave him a message before I do."

"And what might that be?" the angel near Cas sneered.

"Don't screw with my family, bitch," Dean snarled and slid the second angel blade across the floor to Sam's waiting hand. The younger man, snatched it and wasted no time in leaping up and stabbing the angel in front of him in the back, the point of the blade protruding from his chest as he screamed and exploded like Anias had.

Dean was already heading toward the other angel who held up a brand that was glowing from a brazier. He smirked and swung it warningly.

"You'll never get out of here," he said. "You and your brother are going to be kept close to hand until show time."

"Yeah, I heard," Dean grunted. "Doesn't change the fact I'm gonna kill you." He swung with his blade but the angel ducked and lashed out with the poker, causing Dean to leap back.

"You can try, but you're just a human. You can't overpower me."

"Well, you guys seem to think I can stop the apocalypse, so I think I can handle one stunt angel number three," Dean snarked and feinted forward before stabbing the angel in the leg. He screamed and lashed out at Dean with the poker, this time catching him in the side. Dean grunted, staggering back, and the angel grabbed him by the wrist, shoving the poker against his throat and slamming Dean back against a pillar. Dean grunted at the impact and the metal bar cutting off his airway. He struggled but the angel twisted his arm until Dean shouted out and was forced to drop the blade.

"See? Told you you couldn't win," the angel sneered in Dean's face. "

"I never said I had to," Dean grunted and smirked as a blade appeared through the angel's throat. He gave a startled expression then exploded. Dean blinked his eyes open as the light faded and saw Sam swaying in front of him, bloody angel blade in his hand.

"Thanks," Dean told his brother.

"Some rescue," Sam grunted. "I ended up doing most of the work. Jerk."

Dean reached out to grip his shoulder, one hand on his chin to tilt his head from side to side to see where all the blood was coming from. "Shut up, bitch. You okay?"

Sam pulled away from Dean. "It's not my blood."

Dean pressed his lips together, but knew he would talk to Sam later. Right now they had to get Cas out of there.

He hurried over to the captive angel, Sam right on his heels, and crouched down in front of Cas.

"Cas? Hey, it's us." He reached out and cupped the sides of Cas' face gingerly, trying to see what the contraption on his head was doing.

"What the hell is this?"

Sam swallowed hard. "I don't know, Zachariah was trying to use it to force Cas to give him information. Don't pull it off! The pins…"

Dean looked more closely at the trickles of blood trailing down Cas' face. "Son of a bitch!" he cursed. "I'm gonna kill those bastards!"

"We can do that later, Zachariah could be back any minute."

Dean nodded in agreement and swallowed hard. He didn't know how long Anna would be able to hold them off and they needed to get Cas out of here. It wasn't like the angel was going to fly…

"Sammy, help me with this." He and Sam then set to work gently removing the pins from out of Cas' head. He groaned several times, but seemed unconscious, until the final one was removed and then Dean ripped the contraption from his head and threw it away violently. Sam hurried to loosen the chains, simply using the angel blade to strike through them, as Dean took Cas' face in his hands again, seeing the angel start to stir.

"Cas, hey," he called.

The angel's eyes blinked open. They were usually so intense but now they were clouded with pain.

"Dean?" Cas inquired in a whisper.

"Yeah, it's just me and Sam now," Dean told him. "We're getting you out of here."

Cas' eyes widened slightly, and he shook his head. "Dean, you have to listen; Zachariah will be back soon, and I have to tell you this before you go…"

"Cas, stop," Dean told him. "You can tell us later, what part of 'we're getting you out of here' don't you understand? You're coming _with_ us."

"No, Dean," Cas protested and slumped with a cry as Sam managed to get one of his hands free. Dean caught his shoulders and supported his weight. "You and Sam must leave me. You should not have come."

"Hell no!" Dean snapped. "Cas, you didn't leave me in Hell. You helped me get Sam away from Alastair; there's no way we're leaving you here now to more torture, especially since it's our fault you're here in the first place."

"Dean, if you stay, you will both meet a fate worse than death," Cas insisted, fear in his eyes now. "I did not rebel to watch you two fall into this position after everything." He used his free hand to grip Dean's shoulder in a surprisingly tight grip for his state. "They're not using you to stop the apocalypse. They're using you to _start_ it!"

Dean's eyes widened. "Why the hell would they do that?"

Cas shook his head. "I don't know. But that's what Zachariah had planned all along. I don't know who gave the orders, but I know they're not from God."

Dean felt a coldness seep into his chest and reside there. He didn't know what to do with this information. He shared a glance with Sam before his brother resumed his work and managed to finally free Cas completely. The angel moaned and slumped forward. Dean caught him and Sam rushed to help.

"Thank you," Cas muttered against Dean's shoulder. There was a ripple in the air and Cas' wings disappeared with an agonized groan from deep in the angel's chest, leaving behind a pile of feathers. Dean felt sick. Cas looked horrific. Now that his wings were invisible again, Dean could see that his back was entirely covered in lashmarks, deep and oozing blood. And the rest of Cas was covered in burns and cuts. Zach had really done a number on him, the douchebag.

"Come on," Dean said and he and Sam stood and slowly raised Cas to his feet. The angel was shaky but he managed to stand between them. Dean hated having to touch Cas' wounds, but they had to half carry him and there was no way to avoid it. Dean grabbed Cas' waistband and carefully maneuvered him down off the platform and into the tunnel.

"You should leave me," Cas groaned as he nearly collapsed, causing the brothers to have to readjust their holds on him.

"No way," Dean said. "You're with us now."

"Cas, you rebelled for us," Sam said. "We're not just going to drop you now."

"That's right," Dean added. "And no matter what comes, we'll fight this together. Which means you've gotta get out of this tunnel first. So just a little further."

Cas huffed a breath, but tried his best to make his legs work, leaning heavily on the two brothers as they supported him.

"We'll get you patched up, don't worry," Dean murmured to him, trying to focus on moving forward instead of thinking about the very real possibility that Zachariah could show up at any moment. "Then we'll figure this out, okay?"

Cas didn't reply. The angel was flagging fast. Dean shared a glance with Sam and they quickened their pace.

They finally made it out into the night. Dean was thankful they had a cover of darkness as they dragged the now mostly unconscious angel out of the railway tunnels and toward the car Dean had driven there. He swiftly took Cas' weight as Sam hurried forward to open the back door, then helped Dean lay Cas down across the back seats. It was a tighter fit than the Impala would have been but they didn't have any other choice and at least Cas had put his wings away for now. It would have been a hell of a lot harder to fit him in there with an injured wing.

He shrugged out of his coat and draped it over Cas, covering most of the blood, in case anyone happened to look in their backseat while they were driving. He then grabbed a towel and some bottled water, handing the items to Sam as he climbed into the driver's seat.

"You good?" Dean asked his brother worriedly as he put the car in gear and gunned it out of there.

Sam looked shaky, and it took him a long time to answer.

"I don't know," was what he finally replied.

Dean bit his lip, silent for a second before he asked, "Did you drink any?"

Sam wet his lips, scrubbing hard at the side of his face. "I—I didn't mean to," he whispered, sounding broken.

Dean instantly felt horrible. "That's not what I meant, Sammy," he said softly. "I just want to make sure you're all right."

"Well, I think we're all pretty damn far from all right," Sam snapped and glanced into the backseat. "But Cas is the worst off. We need to worry about him first."

Dean swallowed hard, having to agree. He still couldn't get the image of Cas' ruined wing out of his head.

As if on cue, the angel groaned from the backseat, trying to sit up.

"Dean, I…I can't go far with you, not like this," he said. "They'll find me."

Dean glanced back quickly. "Cas, just rest. We're gonna get out of town, find a place to hole up, and get you taken care of. We'll ward it when we get there."

Cas seemed to want to protest, but also seemed to have no energy for it. Instead, he slumped back against the seats, his eyes sliding shut. Dean bit his lip, watching the angel lose consciousness again in the rearview mirror.

"Dean, what are we gonna do?" Sam asked helplessly. "What happened to Cas…this is on us. It's our fault this happened to him; he was trying to help _us_. And what he said…"

"Yeah, I know," Dean said, still reeling from Cas' news, but…at the same time, he wasn't exactly surprised, had kind of had his own suspicions after his little chat with Zachariah earlier. He should have known there would be a catch to the angels wanting their help. He just hadn't expected it to be them actually wanting to start the apocalypse to begin with.

They drove for a couple hours, Dean getting as far out of town as he was willing to go for the moment with Cas in this condition, and finally pulled into a highway motel. He paid for the room and then hurried back to the car where he and Sam maneuvered Cas out of the backseat and into the room. Thankfully, it was the middle of the night and there was no one to witness their questionable activities.

The angel collapsed limply onto one of the beds as Dean and Sam lowered him down. He looked like anything but an angel at the moment, and Dean felt fear welling up in his stomach. What exactly had Zachariah done to him?

"We're gonna need supplies," Dean said grimly. "I hate being stuck with a freaking stolen car."

Sam looked up from where he was putting up sigils. "Go make a supply run then, I'll stay here and get the place locked down."

Dean hesitated, not wanting to leave Sam alone with just the unconscious angel for company, but he didn't really have a choice. They would need supplies.

"Okay, I'll be quick. I saw a twenty-four hour pharmacy down the street," he said and hurried out.

Thankfully, the place had everything he needed and this type of supply run was so normal, he could have done it in his sleep. Still, he was worried that angels would pop out of the woodwork at any moment. He grabbed some other things like food and a t-shirt and pajama pants for Cas since his clothes were pretty much ruined.

As he went to pay, he wondered where Anna was and if she were all right. He was hoping it was a good sign that he hadn't seen her again, that she had successfully led Zachariah away, but maybe it only meant she was captured. He didn't want to think about it. The way her face had looked when she had talked about what happened to disobedient angels…and now Dean had seen it first hand. Maybe Cas hadn't even gone through the worst of it.

Dean hurried back to the motel room and found Sam with a couple wet washcloths, carefully dabbing at Cas' wounds, cleaning some of the dried blood off of them. Dean swallowed hard as he saw the raw wounds on his back fully revealed.

"Dean, this is…some of these almost cut to the bone," Sam told him.

Dean's jaw clenched but he swiftly set about pulling the stuff he had bought out of the bag and setting it up within easy reach on the beside table.

"Let's just treat this like any normal injury and with any luck Cas will recharge and be able to heal himself sooner rather than later," Dean said, but as he cast a longer look at the unconscious angel, Cas' pale cheek pressed against the mattress, he wondered if Cas _would_ be able to heal from this like normal. What if Zachariah had used weapons that angels couldn't heal from? Obviously he'd done something, since Dean and Bobby had shot and stabbed Cas a ton of times when they first met him in the barn, and he hadn't even flinched. Dean just didn't know enough about angels to know what to do to help Cas.

And then there was the issue of his wing. It was invisible again now, but Dean knew it still had to be in the terrible state he had seen it in before.

"Should we…stitch this?" Sam asked hesitantly, studying one of the deeper wounds that cut past the skin and into muscle.

Dean gave a quick glance over some of the particularly bad lash marks—hell, Zach must have used more than just a normal whip on Cas. This was more like…like the metal flails Alastair had used on him in Hell sometimes. Dean suppressed a shudder.

"Yeah, we don't know how long it will take him to heal, and bleeding out isn't going to do him any good."

Sam nodded and reached for a suture kit Dean had bought. He fumbled with the packaging while Dean gave a closer inspection of Cas' back, and then looked over to see Sam attempting to thread the needle, his hands shaking.

Dean shook his head. "Okay, give me that, there's no way you're doing stitches shaking like that." Sam was pale too. He had washed his face off at least and taken off his bloody over shirt, but Dean could tell he was suffering.

"I'll live," Sam said. "We have to take care of Cas first. And you need help. I'll get the gauze ready."

It took them over an hour to finish caring for all of Cas' injuries. Dean stitched several of the worse wounds, and then he and Sam applied burn cream to the nasty spots of burned flesh on Cas' torso and arms. After that they padded his back with gauze and anti-biotic cream, they simply bandaged his whole torso to keep the gauze on. Then they exchanged Cas' dirty and blood crusted slacks for the pajama pants Dean had bought and rolled Cas onto his side, propping him up with pillows, before Dean began to inspect the holes in the angel's head.

"The hell was that thing?" he demanded in disgust, dabbing at one of the wounds, and working on cleaning the blood from Cas' hair.

Sam shook his head. "I don't know. Zachariah was using it to like, hack his brain or something. Get information out of him by force." He leaned closer to look at the wounds himself. "You think he'll be okay?"

Dean shrugged helplessly. "We won't know if there's any lasting damage until later."

"What about his wings?" Sam inquired.

"We can't do anything about that until he wakes up and is able to…make them visible again or whatever." Damn, he wished Anna were here. She would know what to do for her brother.

Dean pulled a blanket over Cas' unconscious figure and stepped back from the bed. "That's all we can do for him right now. We need to think of what our next move is. We should get back to Bobby's, it will be safer there, but it's a long drive and with Cas in this condition..."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, but we should at least call Bobby. He's gotta be worried by now."

Dammit. Dean ran a hand over his face. "Yeah, yeah we should. I'll do that. You take a shower."

Sam still had crusted blood in his hair and he swallowed hard, nodding. "Yeah, I'll do that."

As Sam disappeared into the bathroom and the sound of water running started up, Dean reluctantly reached for his phone and called Bobby.

The phone picked up after only one ring and the hunter instantly began yelling. "Where the hell have you been, boy, I've been worried sick!"

Dean winced. "Hello to you too, Bobby. Look, uh, something came up." He went over what had happened with the older hunter to Bobby's very vocal reactions. There was silence on the line for a few seconds after Dean had lamely finished with where they were at the moment.

"You boys okay?" Bobby finally asked.

Dean glanced toward the bathroom door where the water had turned off. "Yeah. For the most part. Cas, though…" he turned his gaze to the unconscious angel. "He's, uh, he's pretty messed up."

"Balls," Bobby muttered. "Well, try to get back here as soon as possible."

"We're planning on it," Dean said. "Hey Bobby, put up extra warding too."

"Already have," the hunter returned gruffly. "You boys just stay safe, you hear? And haul ass back to Sioux Falls."

"Will do," Dean replied and hung up the call.

Sam appeared from the bathroom. Even though he was still only dressed in just his t-shirt and jeans and was still pale he looked a little better.

"You talk to Bobby?"

"Yeah, he's pissed, but so far none of the angels have showed up at his place," Dean said and stepped forward as Sam slumped against the doorjamb. "Hey, you okay?"

Sam ran a hand over his face. "Yeah, yeah, just…exhausted."

"Then sleep," Dean said, reaching out and putting a guiding hand on Sam's shoulder, pushing him over to the other bed. "I'll keep an eye out here. Rest up for a couple hours and then we'll hit the road."

Sam didn't even protest. He simply slumped onto the bed and was out nearly before his head hit the pillow. Dean watched him for a few long seconds before he stepped forward and pulled the blanket over Sam's sleeping figure. He reached out and pressed the back of his hand against his brother's forehead, feeling the warmth of a low-grade fever. Dean cursed and shook his head. When he met Zachariah again he was going to kill that bastard.

A low groan from behind, startled him and he spun around to see Cas stirring. He crossed to the bed and bent over.

"Cas? Hey."

The angel started awake, jolting upright with a gasp, his eyes wide and afraid before he cried out in discomfort and nearly fell off the side of the bed. Dean caught him and gently eased him back onto his side.

"Whoa, easy, man, you're pretty messed up. Just…relax okay."

"I'm…not healing very quickly," Cas grunted, hands gingerly exploring his bandaged chest, with a wince.

"Well, dude, Zach tortured the crap out of you."

Cas furrowed his brow. "Still I…it's something else. I think…I think I've been cut off." He finished in a hushed voice.

Dean sat on the side of the bed, frowning down at the angel. "Cut off? What does that mean?"

Cas closed his eyes wearily. "It means I'm no longer welcome in Heaven. That I'm not at full power, and that I am officially falling."

Dean's stomach plummeted. He didn't even think…

He swallowed hard. "Cas I'm…I'm sorry," he said lamely. What the hell could he even say to that? "This is….it's all my fa—"

"Don't," Cas said firmly, eyes opening again to stare pointedly at Dean. "This was my own choice, it was not on you. I chose this path, knowing there would be consequences, but it was the right thing to do and I do not regret it. Isn't it true that you have to make tough choices for the sake of what is right, Dean?"

Dean pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded. "Yeah. It is, but…that doesn't mean I'm not sorry."

Cas sighed and shifted as if to find a more comfortable position, wincing with a hissed breath. He glanced around the room. "Is Sam…?"

"He's doing okay, or, not any worse than he was before," Dean sighed, running a hand over his face. "But uh, is there anything I can do for you?"

"I just need rest," Cas said tiredly, eyes sliding shut again. "My wounds will heal slowly, but they will heal in time. A couple more days and they'll be manageable."

"Well, then, you do that," Dean said. He watched the angel as he settled into unconsciousness again, then stood from the bed, checking on Sam one more time before he headed to the table in the room, grabbing something to eat.

He had only meant to sit there and keep watch, but he found himself starting awake hours later, a crick in his neck and heart racing. Light was coming from behind the black out curtain and when he glanced at the clock he saw it was already almost check out time.

But what had startled him awake? Dean jumped as a whump came at the door.

Dean leapt up, grabbing his gun and the angel blade from his coat.

"Dean?" Sam murmured groggily, stirring in the bed.

"Shh," Dean said and crept toward the window. He peeked out the curtains and saw a woman in a suit there. He cursed and stepped back.

"Angels," he hissed.

"It's warded," Sam said, hauling himself into a sitting position.

But as soon as he said that, the warding they had put on the wall started to glow and burn.

"Dean," Cas grunted, pushing himself painfully into a sitting position. "Give me a blade."

"Hell no, Cas, you can't even get out of bed," Dean snapped and turned back to face the door which the angel was pounding on more heavily.

"Dean!" Cas cried in frustration.

Dean ignored him as the door smashed open and the angel strode inside, her own blade raised.

"Finally found you," she said. "Three fugitives cowering together in a filthy hole."

"Well, it ain't five stars, but we make do," Dean said, flipping his blade around in a shining arc. "And we didn't call for room service, or a candygram, so…"

He lunged forward and just barely dodged a swipe from the angel's blade. Sam rushed forward but she flung a hand out and caused him to crash, with a cry, into the table and chairs.

"You fight like an angel," Dean snarled and rushed forward, thrusting the blade up into her stomach. She stopped with a gasp and he quickly covered his eyes as the supernova exploded in the room.

He blinked, and then rushed to help Sam shakily to his feet.

They both turned to Cas who was staring grimly at the brothers from the bed.

"We need to get the hell out of here," Dean told them.


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks to everyone who has been reading this story so far! There's only one chapter after this one, and I promise there is some much needed TLC coming ;)**

Chapter Seven

Dean hated driving down dark highways at night in a car that was not the Impala. Not only was the old Honda he had lifted cramped, but it drove terribly and had no power to it. He hated being on the run in a vehicle he couldn't even trust. Who knew what the hell was going on under the hood of this piece of crap?

They had gotten the hell out of Dodge as quickly as possible after the angel attacked them. Dean wasn't sure how much longer they would be able to keep this up. They had warded the car, but the warding obviously hadn't stopped the angels from finding them at the motel for long, and they were without most of their weapons, and Dean only had a fevered younger brother and a wounded angel for backup. Not to mention the fact that he hadn't slept for going on forty-eight hours now so he wasn't exactly in top shape himself.

Of course, he had suspected the angels would try something overt. Not something like nails in the road.

He knew they were screwed as soon as he heard the telltale explosion of the rear tire blowing.

"Son of a bitch," he growled, moving to pull off to the side of the road. He didn't even think this piece of crap had a spare tire…

"Dean!" Sam cried suddenly and Dean glanced up, gasping and jerking the wheel instinctively to one side as a familiar figure appeared in the middle of the road. If he'd had more of a head right now, he would have just slammed into him, but instinct took over.

Zachariah stood there, and Dean saw his smirk the instant before the angel raised his hand in a nonchalant flicking motion.

The car spun out on the slick road and Dean tried to overcorrect, but hit something on slightly dipped shoulder and before he could attempt to stop the inevitable, the night sky was replaced with the ground as the car flipped over with a horrible crunch.

That was the last sound that echoed in Dean's ears before he blacked out.

* * *

 _Dean came to after being dropped_ roughly onto a hard surface. He coughed air into his lungs and winced as his ribs protested. He pried his eyes open and saw he was lying on asphalt in the middle of the road among shattered glass and random car parts. He groaned and craned his head to see the wreck, the car upside down, with two figures still inside.

"Sammy," Dean choked out, trying to roll to his feet, or at least his hands and knees. "Cas."

But a foot came down and settled firmly against his chest, keeping him from moving.

"Ah-ah, stay there, Dean. You took quite a hit. You wouldn't want to accidently make anything worse, would you?"

Dean stared up with hatred at Zachariah, who stood over him with a smirk on his face. He could see other angels reaching into the car to drag Sam and Cas out as well.

"You son of a bitch, I'm gonna kill you!" Dean snarled, trying to reach into his coat for the angel blade he'd been carrying, but Zachariah shifted his foot to Dean's wrist and bent to pull the blade from his coat. Dean winced and slammed his aching head back on the asphalt in defeat.

The two other angels dragged Sam out of the car finally and dropped him with an unceremonious thump next to Dean. The kid was still unconscious and had blood matting his hair to the side of his head.

"Sammy," Dean called. Zachariah finally took his foot off of Dean and he rolled over and reached out to grip Sam's sleeve, pulling him toward him.

The sounds of struggling came from behind them, and Dean turned to see the last angel hauling Cas out of the backseat. Cas was conscious, and doing his best to fight, but in his condition, it was kind of a pathetic attempt.

"Ah, our prodigal brother," Zachariah said, turning his attention away from Sam and Dean for the moment. "What do you have to say for yourself this time, Castiel? You know, I think it's time we go back to Heaven. I didn't have time for that previously, but now that I have what I need right here, I think it's time you are properly reeducated."

Dean shuddered slightly. He didn't like the sound of that.

"Then take me," Cas growled. "But leave Sam and Dean alone."

Zachariah chuckled. "You know very well that I cannot do that. We're down to the wire, Castiel. Either way, we need them to stop what's coming."

" _And_ to start it," Castiel snapped, glancing at the other angels to see if it was news to them. Unfortunately, their expressions didn't change and Cas slumped slightly. "Either way, Zachariah, these boys are under my charge and I will not let you hurt them. I did not save Dean from perdition to have him be a prisoner of Heaven."

Zachariah sneered and stepped forward to backhand Cas across the face. Dean jolted with anger, but stayed back, knowing fighting now would probably do more harm than good. Man he really must have hit his head.

"Still so defiant after everything I did to you." Zachariah shook his head. "Okay then, if these maggots are your weak spot, I'm not above using that against you."

He turned to Sam and Dean and clenched a hand. Sam, who had been stirring finally, suddenly cried out and curled in on himself, chocking up a mouthful of blood.

"Sam!" Dean cried, gripping his brother's shoulder and pulling him into his arms to brace him so he wouldn't smash his head against the ground again.

"Stop!" Castiel shouted, looking like he would surge to his feet, but one of the angels forced him back down, and pressed a knee into his injured back, making Cas gasp in pain.

"See, Dean, I'm not above playing dirty," Zachariah said, his voice cold now. "One way or another I'm going to get the results I want and you're either going to cooperate, or I'm going to take turns pulling you both apart until you're feeling more inclined to do your duty. You think Hell was bad, Dean? I can be worse."

Dean glowered up at him, hoping he was able to keep the fear that was surging up inside of him at bay. "Go screw yourself. I'm not doing crap for you."

Zachariah cocked an eyebrow. "No? Well, you did get off the rack, so I'm thinking you definitely have a limit as to how much torture you can take. Now, I'm no demon, but trust me, I can get very creative."

He waved a hand at Dean and the hunter suddenly felt like a knife, no, ten knives, had been driven through his gut. He choked, having to let go of Sam who was still curled around himself vomiting blood. Dean could feel it bubbling up in his own throat now as he braced himself on the ground with his hands and retched up some blood after another twist of agony in his stomach.

"Zachariah stop this!" Cas demanded.

"Why? I've just started to have fun," Zachariah sneered as he strode over to Dean and grabbed a handful of his hair, wrenching his head up. Dean groaned as blood dripped down his chin. "I find it interesting that you care so much for these pathetic human fleshsacks. That you would side with them over your own brothers. What are they to you, Castiel?"

Cas met Dean's eyes before traveling to Sam's agonized form. "They're my friends."

Zachariah rolled his eyes. "Ugh, how insufferably sickening."

He pointed casually at Dean and the hunter felt his arm snap. Agony tore through him as he screamed at the sudden pain. Zachariah tossed him aside to lay against the wrecked car a few feet from Cas. Dean cradled his broken arm as he fought the urge to throw up from that too.

"Dean!" Cas shouted, but Zachariah was already heading toward Sam now, he picked up the injured young man and Dean tried to lever himself upright.

"And now the boy with the demon blood," Zachariah sneered, dragging Sam up to the young man's weak protests. "It disgusts me that I have to use you and your abominable addiction, but when you need to get results…" He shrugged and waved a hand. There was an audible snap and one of Sam's legs buckled. He screamed and Zachariah threw him toward Dean to collapse in a heap beside his brother.

"Sammy," Dean grunted, reaching out with his good hand as Sam curled up in agony, tears slipping from his eyes. Dean snarled up at the angel.

"You think this is going to make us do what you want? You're wrong, you dick! Anyone who hurts my brother can go to hell, so bite me!"

"Oh, we'll bite," Zachariah said with an eager look on his face. He turned to the other angels and nodded to the two wounded hunters and Cas. "What do you say we move this conversation to a place more private. We don't want any civilians to wander in.

At just that moment, the sound of a car engine revving to the max could be heard in the distance and Dean's ears pricked up because…no, it couldn't be, but yet, it was so familiar…

"Sir!" One of the angels cried, but it was too late.

The Impala came barreling over a hill in the road and, as Zachariah turned to look, she slammed into him before skidding to a stop with a screech of brakes.

The passenger door flew open and Anna leapt out, fury on her face and an angel blade in her hand.

"Let them go," she said firmly, and when the other angels sneered and rushed forward she met them head on.

Released from his guard, Cas made his way to the Winchesters, crawling to close the few feet between them.

"Cas, you okay?" Dean gritted from between clenched teeth.

"Better than you at the moment," Cas said and reached out to touch Dean's forehead. Dean gasped as he felt his arm knit back together and the pain in his abdomen cease. Cas then did the same for Sam before he slumped on his hands and knees, arms trembling.

"That…took more out of me than expected," Cas panted. "I don't think that will be so easy now…"

"Cas, dammit, don't overtax yourself," Dean snapped, but reached out for Sam as the younger man sat up, grasping his leg. "Sammy?"

"I-I'm okay," he murmured.

A burst of light told them that Anna had gotten one of the angels.

The driver's door to the Impala opened and Bobby leaned out. "What are you waiting for, ya idjits? Get in!"

Sam and Dean scrambled to their feet and reached down to haul Cas up between them before they rushed for the car. Dean piled Sam and Cas into the backseat and then glanced toward the spot where Zachariah lay on the ground behind the Impala. He was groaning and Dean quickly snatched up the angel blade—Cas'—that Zachariah had taken from Dean.

"Anna!" he cried, as she took out the other angel and then hurried to the car, leaping into the backseat as Dean climbed into the passenger seat up font and slammed the door shut.

Bobby put the car in drive and squealed the tires. There was a thump as the hunter backed over Zachariah and then turned completely around before tearing off down the highway.

Dean spun around to watch Zachariah's prone body disappear into the distance, holding his breath, but the angel didn't get up.

"You think he's dead?" he asked.

"Unlikely," Anna said, glancing back as well. "But it might take him a while to recover from that."

Dean swallowed hard. "Well, you got there just in time. How'd you find us?"

"Chuck," Bobby said. "He called me after he got some vision. And after Anna showed up at my door, we went to grab the car and come find you."

"How'd you drive here so fast?" Sam asked, looking around as if he had missed something.

"We didn't, Anna mojo'd us here with the car."

Dean spun around to look at the female angel, eyes wide. "You can do that?"

"Not usually, no," Anna replied, a furrow in her brow. "Perhaps it was an adrenaline thing."

Cas glanced at her with a frown as well, but didn't say anything. Anna shook herself and continued.

"I was able to track you, which meant the other angels would be able to as well," Anna said. "I knew it wouldn't be long before they found you again even with warding. I took Zach on a merry chase but it was only a matter of time before he went after you three again."

"They have to be warded," Cas said wearily and leaned forward to a _tsk_ from Anna to grip the back of the seat. Dean turned to ask him what he was doing when Cas reached over to press a hand to Dean's chest and a sharp, grinding pain radiated across his diaphragm.

Dean choked back a yelp. "Cas, what the hell?"

Cas did the same to Sam who gasped with a wince, before he slumped back against the seat, looking exhausted, eyes barely open. "Enochian sigils, carved into your ribs," Cas said. "They will keep you hidden."

"You carved it into our ribs?" Dean asked, pressing a hand to his chest, unsure whether to feel grateful or violated.

"It had to be done," Cas said simply.

"Yes, and now you need to rest," Anna chided gently. "You are badly wounded, Cas."

"I'm fine, I just need to recharge," he said.

"No, you're not, your wing…" Anna bit her lip.

Cas turned his head to one side. "I know. But I will survive."

Anna's jaw clenched in anger. "What he did to you, that was not punishment, that was just cruelty."

"Did you expect any different?" Cas asked wryly.

Anna shook her head, and the haunted look in her eyes returned. "No. Zachariah is a monster."

Cas nodded. "He is. But, Anna… Thank you. All of you. You did not have to come to my aid."

"Of course we did, Cas," Sam told him sincerely. "You're our friend. You came for me when I was in danger. You…you got Dean out of Hell."

"Exactly," Dean said over his shoulder.

"And this is not the first time I've had to pull you out of a sticky situation, is it, brother?" Anna added with some fond amusement.

"As I recall, I'm not the only one," Cas retorted.

Anna smiled then and reached out to gently take Cas' hand in hers, squeezing it. "Enough of your stubbornness, Cas. You need to rest. I will help you heal what wounds I can."

Cas sighed deeply, but his eyes were already sliding shut and Anna guided his head against her shoulder as he slumped more heavily against her, obviously still exhausted and in pain. Dean watched them in the rearview mirror for a few moments, then looked out the window, afraid that more angels might pop up at any minute. At least Cas had some siblings he could trust. That was one thing to be thankful for.

They decided to drive straight through to Sioux Falls, and Dean finally snatched a couple hours of sleep, leaning against the window of the Impala. It was a comforting, familiar position, and the sound of his Baby's engine lulled him to sleep. When he woke, feeling mildly refreshed, he spelled Bobby for a couple hours. Sam and Cas were still passed out in the back, and Anna was keeping a lookout for any incoming angels. Dean just wanted to get back to Bobby's where they would be safe, and could work on getting everyone back on their feet.

And work on figuring out what the hell they were going to do about the coming apocalypse and how to stop it for good.

* * *

 _They got back to Sioux Falls_ at long last and Sam and Cas woke long enough to be led inside and bundled into Bobby's guest rooms. Dean wanted nothing more than to go to sleep himself, but he couldn't sleep until everyone was taken care of. He gathered up Bobby's first aid kit and then headed to the room they had put Cas in.

"Can I…do anything to help you?" Dean asked Anna as he caught her standing by the other angel's bed, watching Cas sleep.

"I just need to work on healing him right now. Do what I can," she said tiredly. "I…the burns I won't be able to heal since they were made with holy fire, but I can at least heal his back." She snorted slightly in disgust. "Back in heaven when we were lashed for punishment no one was allowed to help the angel in question heal. We had to do it naturally."

Dean felt anger boil up inside of him. "No offense, but I don't think Heaven sounds like all that good of a place."

"It was…once; a long time ago," Anna said, and got a faraway look in her eye as she sat on the edge of the bed, and began to search thought the first aid kit, pulling out a pair of medical scissors. She carefully started to cut through the bandages Dean and Sam had wrapped around Cas' chest earlier. "Before Lucifer rebelled, before our Father stopped taking an interest…it was good." Her face darkened as she began to reveal Cas' wounds. "But power hungry angels began to climb the ranks, and do anything they had to to get there and hold their positions. We were originally supposed to be the shepherds of humanity. I don't understand how any angels can now condone the want to destroy the earth. It is no better than what Lucifer tried to do all those millennia ago."

Dean nodded silently. He didn't really know what to say about that, after all, he hadn't even really believed in angels until Cas showed up.

Anna finally revealed Cas' wounds and she bit her lip as she inspected his back. "Zachariah always went farther than he had to. It was never just a punishment for him, it was…he enjoyed it."

Dean felt her disgust like a bad taste in his mouth. He watched as Anna gently placed her hand in the middle of Cas' back. The unconscious angel flinched and moaned softly, then stiffened as Anna's hand began to glow. Dean watched as the terrible lashmarks that covered Cas' back began to disappear. When his back was simply smooth skin again, Anna took her hand away and slumped, taking several deep breaths.

"You good?" Dean asked, concerned.

She nodded. "Yes, I just…expended a lot of energy."

"You should rest," Dean told her firmly.

She glanced up at him with a small wry smile. "So should you."

Dean sighed as he stood up and pulled a chair from the corner of the room, moving it to the side of the bed. "I'm guessing you're not gonna leave him. But stay here, recharge or whatever."

Anna smiled and gratefully took a seat in the chair. "Thank you. I will have to wait for him to wake up to start healing his wing. Though that will be a longer process."

Dean swallowed hard, remembering the pile of blood soaked feathers they had left back in the abandoned train station. "Cas said he was 'cut off'. What exactly does that mean?"

Anna sighed and slumped further in the chair. "Like me, he fell, so we aren't able to use all the powers Heaven has to offer us. Even now, I can barely heal other angels, but I can't heal humans, nor will Cas now, I assume, at least not for much longer. And eventually…" She looked sadly down at the wounded angel, still unconscious. "Eventually, we'll keep falling until we are, for all intents and purposes, human."

Dean's stomach flipped, as he stared at the red-headed angel. "What?"

She smiled sadly. "That's what falling is, Dean. You fall for humanity, that's what you become."

Dean swallowed sickly, horrified that he had been partly—no, probably mostly—responsible for this happening to Cas. How could he stand to watch this powerful being slowly becoming more and more human because he had chosen to side with the Winchesters in their rebellion?

He quickly turned to the side, running a hand over his face. "I, um, I think I'm going to go check on Sammy."

Anna nodded, then reached out to pull Cas' blankets over his shoulders, smoothing some hair from his forehead. Dean turned for the door swiftly, and marched across the hall to the other room where Sam was sleeping.

When he got there, he found his younger brother twisting in his sheets, in the throws of a fevered nightmare.

"No," he whispered, face twisted in pain. "No, Dean, please. I'm sorry! Don't…don't leave."

Dean's heart ached in his chest as he hurried to Sam's bed and leaned over, gripping his flailing arms comfortingly. "Sammy, shh, it's me. I'm here."

"Not really you," Sam muttered, deliriously. "Dean should have left me by now. Too much…too much blood. Too many mistakes."

Dean felt his throat tighten with emotion and turned to grab a chair from the small desk in the room and drag it over to the side of the bed. He then sat down and leaned over the mattress, reaching out to grip one of Sam's hands in his, trying to loosen his grip on the sheets.

"Sammy, listen to me; I'm never gonna leave you," he said earnestly. "I don't care what happened before, you know this wasn't your fault, and you know we're not just gonna cut you out."

He watched as a tear slid from under Sam's closed eyelid and Dean gently reached out and swiped it away with his thumb before he brushed the unruly hair from Sam's forehead. The younger man seemed to relax a little then, the fevered dream releasing him. His fingers twisted around Dean's instead of the sheet, and he turned on his side toward his brother. Dean watched Sam sleep, knowing that they still had a long journey ahead of them, but if they stuck together, he also thought they might just have a chance of getting out of it all alive.

Right now, though, they just needed to concentrate on getting back on their feet.


	8. Chapter 8

**And here we are at the end of this story :) Thanks to everyone who read and followed and faved! Now enjoy the TLC :)**

Chapter Eight

Sam woke slowly, drifting out of unconsciousness with the brief regret that he was even waking up at all. But the sound of snoring by his head was keeping him from drifting back into sleep and he had to open his eyes to investigate.

As he suspected, it was Dean, sitting precariously in a chair by his bed. His top half was slumped against the mattress, with his head resting on his folded arm, while one hand covered Sam's, keeping up a constant physical contact, even in slumber. Despite the snoring, Sam felt a sudden relief that his brother was not only okay, but there when he woke up, leaving him in no doubt as to where he was and who he was with.

He shifted and a moan slipped out as his body protested, the constant fever ache that accompanied his detox still there, but not nearly as bad as the previous night. He knew it would still probably be a couple weeks before he was completely clean, thanks to this new setback, but he knew he could get there, and he wouldn't stop until he did.

Dean started awake at Sam's movement and jerked upright, blinking blearily, and reaching up to wipe the drool from his face. "Hey," he said gruffly.

"Hey," Sam muttered with a small smile.

"You okay?" Dean asked as Sam began to pull himself up to sit against the pillows.

"Well, I'm better," Sam said with a shrug.

Dean gave him a critical once over, seemed to see that was the best he was going to get, and shrugged. "Well, that's something at least."

Sam winced as he straightened and ran a hand through his hair. "How's Cas? Is he okay?"

Dean swallowed hard. "Yeah, um, he's still asleep as far as I know. Anna was able to heal the lash marks last night. But um…she said he's falling, man. That eventually, they'll both be essentially human."

Sam's eyes widened at Dean's words. Is that what happened to fallen angels? He knew Anna had turned human when she cut out her grace, but now that she had it back, what would become of it? Would her and Cas' grace fade away, burning out for their sins? Sam felt sick at the thought.

"So what do we do?" he asked helplessly.

"At the moment?" Dean asked in a businesslike manner. "We get you and Cas better, and we get back into the fight. Because we are gonna win this thing. We're not gonna let the angels have their way, not if they want the end of the world as we know it. That just ain't gonna happen on my watch."

Sam saw the determination in his brother's eyes and was glad of it. For the first time in a long time, he could see an inkling of the old Dean back. Maybe Hell hadn't completely changed him after all.

"You know I'm with you," Sam offered sincerely.

"Good." Dean clapped a hand on Sam's knee and then stood. "Why don't you grab a shower and then come down for breakfast? You need to get your strength back."

Sam sighed, but his stomach gurgled and he realized that he was starving, unable to remember the last time he had eaten. At least that was a good sign. Maybe he was finally getting his appetite back.

Dean made eggs and bacon and Sam sat at the table in the kitchen with a mug of coffee, feeling the warmth of it leech into his hands. He wasn't cold, still a little fevered, in fact, but there was a comfort, a normality, to it.

"Grub's up," Dean said, setting a plate down in front of him.

Sam eagerly took up his fork and dug in.

Dean was just about to sit down with his own when Anna came into the room.

"Hey," Dean said, hovering between standing or sitting. "You uh, want some?"

Anna shook her head. "I'm fine." She sat at the table with them and turned to Sam. "You're looking better."

"Thanks," Sam said a bit self-consciously. "I do feel a little better. How's Cas doing?"

"He's still resting for the moment," Anna said. "But I will have to see to his wings before long. I may need your help," she glanced toward Dean and he nodded, though Sam saw the nervousness in his brother's face. He could understand. He had seen what had happened to Cas first hand and it hadn't been pretty.

"Let me know what you need me to do," Dean told her.

Bobby walked in then to refill his coffee cup. "Well, good news is that it doesn't seem like the apocalypse has started overnight. I put out a heads up to all the other hunters I know to keep an eye out for anything weird, or, well, weirder than normal." He splashed a bit of whisky into his cup. "Now we just have to figure out how to stay under the angel's radar and stop this damn thing."

"The warding here in good," Anna assured him. "As for stopping the apocalypse, we'll have to give that more thought. I will admit that I have not been entirely in the loop lately. But I suppose few of the angels have."

Sam bit his lip, staring down at his half eaten breakfast, suddenly not so hungry anymore. "But if we're meant to start it, what if we stay hidden?"

Anna shook her head. "They would find another way or they would certainly find leverage that would draw you out. Either way, we have to actively try. Because they will not stop so easily. Trust me."

Dean nodded. "And we will. Together."

Sam just hoped they would be enough.

* * *

 _Castiel drifted out of unconsciousness._ It was always an odd sensation to be pulled back to wakefulness. Since he didn't really have practice sleeping, he always associated this feeling with being injured, the slow restart of a wounded body, being pulled back to the land of the living. Sometimes, he thought he would like to drift for a little longer.

He did a swift check of his body to see how his wounds were healing. His back where the lash had dug into him was completely healed—obviously he'd had help there. The cuts he'd been dealt were all scabbed over and his head was thankfully healing from Zachariah's invasive interrogation technique. It wasn't pounding anymore. It was really only the burns that would take time; holy fire burns always healed slowly. Those and his wing.

Castiel shuddered at the zings of pain he felt through his grace from his currently incorporeal wing. He knew that in his vessel he would have to manifest it physically to heal it, and it would be agonizing.

He wondered where the others were. He vaguely recalled that they were in Bobby Singer's house so they should be safe there, but he needed to make sure that the Winchesters and Anna were okay.

With some difficulty, he pushed aside the blanket that had been laid over him, still sluggish, then rolled to swing his legs over the side of the bed, wincing as his burns protested.

His feet touched the floor and he realized his mistake when his legs wobbled so much they could hardly take his weight. He grabbed the nightstand and instinctively threw his wings out for balance, but the agony that tore through his injured one completely ruined his ability to stand and he collapsed to his hands and knees with a muffled cry.

Footsteps sounded outside the door and there was a hesitant knock before it opened. "Cas?" Dean's voice.

"I'm fine," Castiel grunted in frustration. Annoyed at how weak he was right now.

Dean was around the bed and crouching beside him in another second. "You sure, because you're on the floor, dude."

Castiel grunted again, but allowed Dean to grip him under the arm and help him to sit back on the bed. "It was just a misjudgment. My legs were apparently not ready to be out of bed yet."

Dean looked like he was trying to smother a chuckle, and shook his head. "Well, you took some pretty hard hits. Anna healed your back last night though."

"I can tell." Castiel said.

"You uh, hungry or thirsty?" Dean asked suddenly.

Castiel narrowed his eyes, watching Dean curiously. The hunter seemed like he was avoiding something. "I do not require food or drink."

"Right," Dean said, rubbing a hand over his head. "Um, anyway, I should go tell Anna you're awake. She wanted to help you with your wing."

Castiel's stomach tightened at the idea of more pain, but he nodded. "Yes, it has to be done. You can tell her I'm ready."

Dean hesitated slightly, looking like he wanted to say something else, but simply cleared his throat and hurried from the room. Castiel shook his head. Sometimes humans were very confusing.

Dean returned soon with Anna and Sam. Castiel was glad to see the younger brother on his feet. He could tell Sam still had the demon blood in his system, but he could also tell that the young man was fighting it. It shouldn't be too much longer before he was completely healthy again.

Anna came over to the side of the bed and settled a hand on Castiel's shoulder.

"I'm sorry we have to do this, brother, but…"

"It has to be done," Castiel said for her.

She nodded and he resigned himself to the pain that would follow. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, reaching for his wings before he pulled them onto the mortal plane. He gasped and clenched his hands into the side of the mattress. Anna gripped his shoulders to keep him upright.

"It's okay, just breathe," she told him.

Castiel gritted his teeth, but he felt the agony settling back to a dull ache. He shifted so he could lay down on his stomach, giving Anna better access. He gripped one of the pillows from the bed, and tried to concentrate on anything other than what was about to happen.

Dean cursed. "So, what can we do to help?"

Anna sighed, her breath wavering. "I need someone to hold his wing steady. I'll have to pull some of these broken feathers—sorry Cas."

"Do what you have to," he grunted.

Dean came around the bed near Castiel's head, seeming to study Castiel's injured wing with an overwhelmed look. "Where do I…?"

"Here," Anna instructed him on where to grip and Castiel felt Dean's hesitant hands descend on his wing. He closed his eyes, breathing heavily as he tried to push away the thought of Josiah's hands on him. This was just Dean, he could feel the human's tortured but righteous soul through his grace and knew they were just trying to help him.

"Hold on," Sam said suddenly and there was a clink of metal before something was held up in front of his face. Castiel opened his eyes and saw it was Sam's belt, folded it two.

"Put it between your teeth," the younger man said. "Trust me."

Castiel hesitantly shoved the leather between his teeth and grimly thought that he was probably going to bite through the belt entirely by the time this was over.

"Okay, I'm going to start," Anna told him, settling her hand against his back below his wings. "I'll be as quick as possible."

Castiel nodded and squeezed his eyes shut again.

Anna pulled the first feather, and he couldn't help but flinch. Dean lost his grip at the sudden jerk of his wing and Castiel almost clipped him in the chin.

"Hold him, Dean!" Anna commanded.

Dean gripped Castiel's wing more firmly and the angel could feel the regret seeping through him, but he knew the hunter also realized what needed to be done.

Another feather was pulled free and Castiel couldn't help a cry of pain past the belt in his mouth. He bit down harder. The next one, a large primary, came from a part of his wing that had already been damaged with Hellfire, the scar tissue extremely sensitive. He screamed at the pain, and was only barely able to keep his true voice from coming through. He felt both Dean and Anna's hands trembling.

Then there was a dip in the bed and he forced his eyes open to see Sam sitting beside his head. The young man held out his hands. "Here. Just hold on."

Castiel couldn't protest with the belt clenched between his teeth so he just reached out and clasped Sam's offered hands in his.

Over all, it took twenty about minutes in total, but it was all complete agony and felt like a lot longer than that. By the time Anna had finished and done a preliminary healing, as much as she could for the moment, everyone was exhausted, Castiel most of all. He slumped onto the bed heavily, letting the belt slip from his mouth and releasing Sam's probably aching hands. His wings limply hung off either side of the bed.

"Now what?" Dean asked, his voice tight. Castiel glanced up at his face and saw he was pale, sick looking. "Is there anything…?"

"I've done all I can, for now," Anna said to both him and Castiel. And she had done quite a bit. It wasn't healed, but already his wing hurt a lot less, and Castiel knew he would be able to heal the rest within the next couple days.

"Thank you," he said softly, reaching up to brush his fingers over hers. "You've done enough, sister." Anna touched his back between his wings gently, soothingly, a sad smile finding its way to her lips.

He was surprised then to find her fingers moving to skim through his uninjured wing in a familiar comforting gesture. "Cas, your wings are a mess," she _tsked._ "You obviously haven't groomed them since after you—"

"I haven't had the time," Castiel cut in quickly, not wanting her to mention Hell with Dean in the room, not wanting him to know that was why his wings looked the way they did. Why they were scarred with Hellfire. "Nor many chances to go back to Heaven." Though, in truth, he simply hadn't asked for help grooming, because he hadn't wanted the other angels to see the damage to his wings. Zachariah had been the first one to see them since he'd been to Hell and he had mocked his scars just as Castiel thought most of the other angels would.

"Well, you'll have to let me help you take care of them from now on," Anna said.

Castiel tilted his head to glance over his shoulder at her. "Only if you'll let me return the favor. I'm sure yours aren't any better off."

Anna shrugged her shoulders as if her wings were indeed slightly uncomfortable. "When you recover," she said.

"I'm gonna go make some coffee," Dean said, glancing down at Castiel. "You rest up, you hear?"

"I don't think I'll be doing much else today," Castiel replied blandly. Dean shrugged and turned toward the door. Sam went to follow him, but Castiel called out before the younger Winchester left the room. "Sam can I talk to you for a moment?"

Sam furrowed his brow but he came back in and sat on the bed, careful of Castiel's wing. "Sure."

"I'm sorry for what Zachariah did to you, I wish I could have warned you and Dean before—"

"Cas," Sam cut in, reaching out to settle a hand on the angel's forearm. The sudden contact was strange, but not unwelcome. "You can't blame yourself for getting captured. And now that we do know what we're up against, well, we can try our best to make sure the apocalypse doesn't get started to begin with."

"I'm not sure it will be that easy," Castiel said darkly.

"No," Anna added. "But we must do what we can all the same. After all, we don't really have a wide margin for failure."

"Exactly," Sam said. "Which is why we'll do what we have to or die trying. Dean and I are both ready for that outcome if it comes to it."

Castiel felt a surge of respect for these men, boys really, who were willing to stand, vastly outnumbered, at the end of all things. He realized then that if they were to die in this fight, then he would only hope that he could join them.

"I do truly believe that if anyone could accomplish something like stopping the apocalypse, it would be you and your brother," Castiel said truthfully.

Sam smiled then, his eyes somewhat wet. "Cas, I just…I just wanted to say thank you."

"For what?" Castiel asked, frowning.

"For believing in me," Sam said, swallowing hard. "It hasn't…been easy to beat this addiction, but it's helped knowing that I have people who believe I can."

Castiel smiled then, and tentatively clasped the young man's hand. "You will beat it, Sam, and when you do, you'll be even stronger in the end."

Sam smiled wider then and ducked his head. "Thanks, Cas," he said again and stood up. "I'll leave you to rest now."

Castiel settled back against the bed, feeling heavy, but also a lot more comfortable, the pain in his body starting to ebb. His wing would heal and if he was really lucky, he would be able to fly again before long. Well, before he completely lost the ability to even use his wings. But he wouldn't think of that right now. He had made his choice and he didn't regret it, even if he had fallen. Right now, Anna's gentle fingers running through his feathers was soothing, and brought back many comforting memories.

"You really think they can do it?" Anna asked.

"Yes," Castiel replied without hesitation. "I do."

"Then so do I," Anna said.

Castiel closed his eyes as she continued her ministrations and drifted off into a recharging sleep again, knowing he should enjoy the calm while it lasted.

* * *

 _Dean quietly opened Cas' door later_ that afternoon to check on the angel. He was surprised to see him sitting up in bed, his wings once again invisible, reading a book he must have pulled from one of Bobby's shelves.

The angel looked up as the door opened. "Hello, Dean."

"Hey, um, just wanted to see if you were doing okay," Dean said, hanging in the doorway, hesitant. He knew there were things he needed to say to Cas, but at the same time, he didn't really want to bring up painful subjects while the angel was still recovering. It _was_ sort of important, though…

He took a deep breath and came further into the room. Screw it; it was the end of the world, better not to waste time with worrying about difficult conversations. He needed to sack up. "Hey Cas, can I talk to you?"

"Of course," Cas replied, brow furrowed as he set the book side.

Dean bit his lip and moved around the bed to sit in the chair Anna had stayed the night in. "Look, I just wanted to say how sorry I am. Anna, she explained what—what _falling_ really meant, and how you two are—will be—human eventually."

He saw Cas shift slightly at that.

"Dean, I already told you it wasn't your fault," Cas told him. "I chose this path, fully aware of the consequences. I actually count myself lucky that I am still alive and still have my own mind so that I can further aid you in your mission."

Dean repressed a shudder, remembering the mind hacking device that Sam had said Zach had tried to use on Cas. He supposed it could be worse than falling or whatever.

"I know, but Sam and I…we have a terrible track record. People who help us, who fall in with us…well, typically, it ends bloody."

The angel just stared at him blandly. "You don't think I'm ready to die for this cause?"

"I know you are, I know all of us are," Dean shrugged, swallowing down the sudden lump in his throat. "I just…I hate that that's where we always end up. Loosing people we care about."

Cas shifted so that he was sitting up more. "Dean, perhaps you shouldn't think of it as loosing people you care about so much as the fact that you are lucky enough to have people around you who would die for you."

Dean looked down at his hands, clenched together and resting between his knees.

They sat in silence for a long time, until it was getting too awkward for Dean and he took a deep breath. "Cas, remember how I said I didn't think I was strong enough for this?"

The angel cocked his head to one side as he studied the hunter. "Yes, I remember."

Dean wet his lips, looking down at his hands again. "Well, I'm still not sure I am; I certainly don't buy into all the crap that I alone can stop the apocalypse, but I kind of came to the conclusion that maybe that's the point. And now, knowing the truth, I just feel like…what the hell am I gonna do? How the hell can we ever be enough?"

He heard the angel inhale, pausing for a long moment before he spoke. "Do you remember what I told you? About the power of family and having people who believe in you?"

Dean snorted. "Yeah, and it can be great for morale, but it's no firepower."

"And fire power is exactly what Lucifer is going to be expecting," Cas said. "I do not believe this war is going to be won by epic deeds, Dean. I think it will be the small things, believing in the things that keep people…human. Neither Michael nor Lucifer ever understood that, they never took enough time to try, and so they will never understand the pure strength that you humans can show when everything you love is threatened."

Dean stared at the angel for a long moment, his words ringing true. "How did you do it?" Dean asked.

"Do what?"

"Fall?" Dean replied quietly. "How did you have the courage to…take that leap? No pun intended."

Cas furrowed his brow. "Well, I didn't really have a choice in this case, but as I said before, I do not regret it."

"Exactly," Dean coaxed. "You just…did it. Not caring about the repercussions, not even checking to make sure there was something to catch you on the other side."

Cas gave him a meaningful look. "Is that not how you felt when you sold your soul for Sam?"

Dean opened his mouth and then stopped. Yeah, okay, the angel had a point there. "Well, yeah, if you put it that way."

Cas smiled slightly, knowing he had gotten his point across.

"It all depends on how much you're willing to risk for what you believe in," the angel said. "And I believe in humanity, especially you and your brother. I believe that you will succeed in stopping the apocalypse, and I vow to be there by your side when you do it."

"Well, I'm not sure I share your belief, but I'm gonna do my best," Dean said and bit his lip before he turned back to the angel, clearing his throat.

"And I just want you to know, Cas, that you have a place here with us," Dean told him. "In case you were wondering."

Cas smiled slightly. "It is much appreciated, Dean."

Dean swallowed down an emotional lump in his throat and cleared his throat again. "Okay then. I guess we'll make this official, so…welcome to Team Free Will."

Castiel cocked his head to the side. "Team Free Will?"

Dean shrugged, somewhat self-consciously. "Yeah, you know, defying destiny and all that. I figure we break the rules, tear up the script, and do it our way. And if we die, hell, at least we tried. What else have we got to lose?"

Castiel studied him for a long moment before he nodded. "I like that."

"Good," Dean said, standing up. "Because now we've gotta figure out a way to stop the apocalypse."

But for the first time in a long while, Dean felt confident that they might actually have a chance at this. Especially if they all stuck together.

After all, they were a team. And even more importantly, they were the team was the going to save the world.

* * *

 **I have a one shot for my Being Human series that I will post this Friday, so keep an eye out for that :) It will be a nice spot of humor after this angsty piece.**


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